Do yourself a favor and explode your brainstem.
Remove your thoughts, you're already so detached from them.
Cut off your fingers since you forgot how to use the pen.
You were more, you weren't so sick and sore.
You weren't so fucking in love with the floor.
And being below it.
Tossed away thoughts, your mind withers and rots.
Cast aside passion, weakness is the new fashion.
Fuck you for being the weak one,
and fuck you for turning to run.
Best of luck running through the briar,
when you get caught don't call me the liar.
I've summoned the most power I possibly could
I think it's time you finally fucking stood
on your own two feet
smell the concrete
before I make you taste the fucking curb.
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