I am exploring the inside. I find it desolate.
I do implore these confines
now as they penetrate,
“recreate me.”
I'm hovering throughout time.
I crumble in these days. I crumble;
I cannot find reflection in these days.
If you listen, listen close, beat by beat,
you can hear when the heart stops.
I saved the pieces when it broke
and ground them all to dust.
I am destroyed by the inside.
I disassociate. I hope to destroy the outside. It will alleviate and elevate me.
Like water flowing into lungs,
I'm flowing through these days.
As morphine tears through deadened veins
I'm numbing in these days.
I know what died that night.
It can never be brought back to life
once again,
I know.
If you listen, listen close, beat by beat,
you can hear when the heart stops.
I saved the pieces when it broke
and ground them all to dust.
