Death and I, we aren't friends
wait I've already used the line
saved it for another time
to what end would it be
for it to be repeated again
back to back like I have to buddy to help me attack
but I have nothing to gain
so let's begin anyway
All day, running in the background
walks the images, b-roll horror films
writing in my head
putting myself in a dirt bed
listing all the grim designs where I can be found
like firing off a gun inside my head
pull the trigger while it's in my ear
feel my equilibrium disintegrate
as my consciousness fades
while my brownish shade faints and loses color
and all of the noise in my mind finally lowers
but the question it poses
"Do you have the stones to throw a stone at your own glass house"
to which I will always respond no
Firearms kill and destroy innocent lives daily for little justification
while the ramifications always seem to vary
so I remain wary to downright detest
instruments that take life away
Then to sneak in from the shadows
whispers like a thief in the night
goes the voices too dark to see
"why not tie a bed sheet around your neck, wrap it thrice around the ceiling fan above where you sleep to stop the restless dreams"
to that i respond, no
my ceiling is too low and even standing on my toes
I can touch the top if I reach far enough
So creeping through the...