Scab fur balls piling in carpet
A dull blade in need of being replaced
Blood sleeping on my hands
Soaking into a trance
Realities skin torn wide apart
The songs continues
A smile on my leg
Hair in my face
Falling with the weight
Head banging in the singing wall
Tasting the self I wish was dead
Alive for self hate
Mirrors in the dark
How do you want your meat?
Raw, rare, medium, well
Depends on your slicing tongue
Who am i asking, why do I care
Like a deer in the flashlight
Paralyzed in a body that’s not mine
I don’t know what i want to believe
It’s all just an ache
Time to vacuum it in abyss
Erase all traces







“Tasting the self I wish was dead”
That line rattled my skull with its power and relatability. I wonder how many of us walk this, talk this and live it…
So many