Open wounds in the palms of my
hands, festering through infections time. i
feel so faint as my life spills over
you. backstep over glass as i repent. i
fear i can't prevent myself from spilling your
life all over me.
Im so sick, so sick of
myself. mother, say you'll pray for me. i'm
premature in my decay.
shards of glass
swimming in my eyes. a small voice in the back
of my mind thats whispering words i never want
to hear. i pray that you wont besitate, as
you watch me degenerate, to reach in my wounds
and extract all my fear. my suffocation.
asphyxiation. ive been choking on my own
blood.
im so sick, so sick of
myself mother, say you'll pray for me.
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