There are no mistakes. Only decisions
The choices that you choose to make
And the night that you saw them choose (the way I watch you choose)
You described it as a "physical pain" in your spine
I watched your spirit break
I felt the collapse of my mental complex as my head hit my hands
I would rather be alone forever than suffer "out of body experiences"
A pestilence
It resonates in these waves of human garbage that frequent my memory
Images of floating bodies, scathed, soiled
Replaying in my head's airwaves
So I will just lay back down
In this bed I buried inside of your house
A hollow hole that I have dug for myself
A home that I have settled into
Because I have been slipping into nothing
And these thoughts are worthless
As long as actions keep showing the same signs of
"If it looks dead and it smells dead"
It's probably fucking dead
