I will always act in my self interest and right now my current instinct is to drag an aluminum bat through your head and scrape the inside of your skull with a rusty spoon Tired lines, on the page, beneath my eyes, Scratch out my name, not that it matters For all you try, you still fail to seize the light Burning down, all your dreams of breaking out Passing now, forever stuck in a stranger's haze But it's your back that bears the lashes, your soul that carries the sentence, your wit that paid the price For madness! Let me pry my fingers in your eyes, I want to feel what you see. God is coming for me and I can't feel my soul oh God where is my soul I need it to live and I can't get enough oxygen without it the breaths are collapsing in my chest the lungs are collapsing in my chest the air is inadequate I need to go outside to inhale pollution the fresh air is killing me, the spores and the chemicals and the fumes and the people and the expectations and the frequencies from the poles irradiating my fragile shell my infernal organs are rearranging I am evolving I am love I am dissolving I am hate I am conflicted peace turn around internal war ceasefire machine gun death rattle by the poundpennypenceounce espoused to a million chambered rounds with convenient bloodstains on the casing Musical chairs on the xylobone, surgical edition of "We removed your ribcage, now go find it under your skin." I'm going to crush your pelvis into dust and snort it. Put the gun up to my head The trigger pulls us closer Can't wait for it to end So we can start all over Throw me out the window I can be your street art Tie me to the ceiling I can be your sweetheart Show me to the viscera Tell me which one's mine I wanna feel a heartbeat Tell me which one's mine... Russian roulette with six loaded chambers Life's a game, didn't you hear it in the papers? If you don't ask you won't be denied If you don't speak you won't be silenced Take the question home, grapple it, seduce it, and find it ask you who you are Someday we'll remember what the words meant. Violently early defAuLT I sit and watch a sunset. The sunset is not real, I cannot touch it, smell it, taste it, and even if I could it would not be any more real. The sunset is not real. My eyes are not real. The soul that perceives does not exist either. All of it will be gone tomorrow. Of course, the logical thing is to get in line with objective reality, but it's not that way. I instinctively feel that it is not there, I am not here. None of it matters, and while it is a wonderful sensory experience, I can't shake the feeling that it is an illusion. It is not a logical feeling.