I’ll drown my brain in black caffeine, share nicotine with a dream, and have a cup of tea with anxiety
It’s a preface of, a catastrophic desolation of my subconscious, subconsciously, and inebriation invades sobriety
It’s an attack of my own psyche, is this fiction or reality? What a toxic dichotomy
And fuck all this goddamn stress, I’m sick of losing my breath before I bomb my self-consciousness, so consciously
And my inspiration evades my apathy
Sometimes I wear this skank to hide my face from all the dust, carried on gusts of wind that aren’t my friends
And sometimes I am hiding from my friends, or the lusts of people that I don’t trust
And sometimes I get so trapped behind it that I can’t seem to breathe
And I’m frantically trying to conceive what all of this means
Sometimes I get so frustrated that my lungs rapidly begin to fill up like a hot air balloon
And they get so full that I think they might bust
Right through my skin to leave holes gaping from within
While I’m gasping for air, though I don’t seem to care
It’s like someone lit a match inside of a hydrogen blimp
My body goes limp as I peer deeper into the holes in my chest to find that the reaper
dousing my heart in gasoline
Was really me, about to ignite all these feelings I have, to stop driving me mad
And abolish every last waking worry or fear that I hold so damn dear to my soul
And maybe for once I could just forget that I have organs
Whether that be the brain that drives me insane and creates these things
That I splatter all over these pieces of trees that once helped me breathe
I’m such a fucking hypocrite, I’m such an asshole, but maybe I deserve it for once
Or whether that be the heart that will continue to tear me apart
Until it ceases to beat and they put my body in the ground
Or whether that be the things between our legs that we might put together
To create little mirror images of ourselves
So they can grow up to think the same thoughts, and feel the same things
And want to forget about the same damn organs that we so greedily gave them
Or maybe the eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the world, because this world will burn through my corneas
And give me the satisfaction of not seeing all of these things that I despise, and the pain was oh too sweet
But even without those eyes in my head functioning, I can still somehow see my lungs on the sidewalk
Covered in cigarette butts and dirt, like a punctured balloon deflated outside of a four-year old’s birthday party
Aren’t you sick of crying? Let’s just go numb and indulge in the pitifully gorgeous emptiness in our lungs
I can’t breathe, I’m sick of losing my breath, I wish someone would steal it already
And through a hurricane of pessimism I find mangled ambition to optimize my self pity
What a disgusting miracle
My subconscious is haunting me, and my conscience taunts me, like seduction and robbery
These states of mind are truly battling, and I’m stuck in the middle trembling, I hope these fires are friendly
And I hope this war won’t create any casualties