I can’t seem to find myself asleep tonight, for I can’t seem to find myself through these dreams at night. They thrash and scream like a distorted memory, and I’m all tied up in chains with no vision of a key.
I found it hard to trap the rest of me, held down by a sickness with no remedy. I even pondered upon an apothecary, even he said there was nothing that could be done for me.
I asked the dead to please forgive me, the past transgression’s taken hold of me. I found salvation in a battery, because it was the only thing that never seemed to fucking cut out on me.
Random lines scrawled on an empty page. Thoughts scribbled in a flurry of motion. Words of wisdom are hard to find yet the proclamations of the damned can be found in bright neon by the side of the highway. When we were young everything seemed so splendid and new. The town was small but the minds contained therein even more so. I only ever thought of breaking away.
Death is whispering within the wind. I hear him beckon like a missing friend. I try to find myself through. But the wind sounds like sugar in a deaf man’s ear and all that I can seem to find here is just more fucking fear and if salvation hides in the wind it’s clearly beyond my ability to fucking hear.