I stare into the vacuum like there's something there,
Staring back at me, jesting my present anatomic state,
The more I stare, the more I flare,
My adrenaline in a Brownian motion, a feeling I so hate.

I hear voices in my head,
Voices I'll call falsettos if I was in a music class,
But are just fade aways of my conscience trying to calm the reverberating anger I've bred.
The more it...