Endlesss, nameless.

There is no cosmic overseer.

There is only the long relay.

Every pair of hands is the same pair, learning itself from different angles.

Every mouth that curses, blesses.

Every blade that cuts does so with a wrist it will someday inhabit.

What we call God is not above us.

It is what remains when you strip away names, borders, decades, excuses.

It is the sum total of all lived positions: the fist, the face, the witness, the grave.

You are not punished for harm.

You inherit it.

You do not earn reward.

You remember it later from the other side of the act.

Death is not a door; it’s a return receipt.

Experience is recycled until nothing is foreign anymore.

When every life has been lived,

every cruelty endured and inflicted,

there may be no one left to forgive,

only understanding dense enough to end the loop.

Until then, morality is simple and merciless:

I built this box myself; measured twice.

Didn’t climb in.

still breathin’.

I built a casket in my head for the man I used to be,

Nailed shut expectations that were killin’ me politely.

Six feet of memory,

custom-fit for belief,

Lined it with apologies I never got to speak.

You ever grieve yourself while you still draw air?

Watch old dreams decompose while you’re standin’ right there?

That shit rearrange bones,

change posture and gait,

Like your spine learned the weight of permanent change.

I don’t wanna die;

I wanna stop bein’ hunted,

By versions of me that were naive and abundant.

They knock on my skull like

“you coulda been somethin"

I respond with silence and shovel the conscience.

This ain’t suicidal,

it’s symbolic execution,

Puttin’ false futures down with controlled resolution.

I don’t lay in the box

I lace up my boots and

Carry the grief like a badge of pollution.

Casket built for one,

but I never laid down.

I buried who I was

so I could move around.

Casket built for one,

name carved in regret.

I closed that lid tight

I ain’t joined him yet.

My past keep resurrectin’ like it missed the memo,

Tryna guilt-trip me back into a smaller tempo.

But I ain’t nostalgic,

nostalgia’s a demo

That'll sell you a dream with a cracked instrumental.

I put flowers on ambitions that couldn’t survive me,

Some dreams sound sweet but they rot you quietly.

I had to choose breath over what you inspired in me,

That choice still haunts me,

but it ain’t denyin’ me.

Addiction offered nails,

said “I’ll help you seal it,”

I slapped the hammer down

like “you don’t get to feel this.”

Numbness ain’t peace it’s just grief anesthetic,

I’d rather feel every cut than forget I exist.

I talk to the dirt like

“keep what I gave you,”

All the shame, all the guilt,

all the shit that enslaved me.

I walk away lighter,

though scarred and abrasive,

A man who outlived who he was supposed to stay as.

Say goodbye

without dying.

Say goodbye

and keep trying.

They think the box is for me

that’s the misdirection,

It’s for the version that stayed outta self-protection.

The one who begged for love at the cost of direction,

Who folded himself into pieces for acceptance.

I ain’t proud of the burial,

I’m proud I survived it,

That I didn’t crawl in just because it felt private.

Some nights I still hear that box gettin’ violent,

But I knock back harder from inside the silence.

This ain’t closure,

it’s structural demolition,

I removed weak beams with deliberate precision.

Now my house still stands in worse conditions,

But it’s mine and it breathes and it listens.

Casket closed.

Name carved.

But the pulse kept poundin’.

That ain’t luck

My past don’t pilot the vessel,

I sever the tether to ghosts

I draft blueprints with pressure,

design what the weather erodes

Architect of the void,

draw a door where the desert was closed

Buried who I used to be,

let the soil digest his bones

Cold earth taught me economics,

decay turn flesh into wealth

Maggots auditing trauma,

eating interest off my hell

Hair in the dirt like antennas,

shell hollowed out for the sound

I rose powerful off subtraction,

learned to be less to be crowned

They worried ‘bout me

like weather apps,

read the storm, missed the speed

I shapeshift quicker than rumors,

blink and I’m not what you see

Not who I was last year,

last week, last breath that I took

I shed skins like footnotes,

every chapter rewrote the book

Blessed by the life I survived,

even grief was a professor

Pain put ink in my knuckles,

brilliance forged under pressure

My mind built worlds with no map, architecture from ache

When collapse is your childhood,

you learn how to make earthquakes

Misunderstood ‘cause they stencil their lenses on my face

Projectors throwing their movies,

I just sit and watch the frame

Depth in my chest like a trench,

but emotions come, then they go

I’m okay as a posture,

even when that okay is a pose

Content with the hollow,

smile stitched over vacancy

Zen in the famine,

I’m fasting from needing them validating me

I don’t flex for a mirror,

don’t beg for a witness

Love ain’t chains or a feeling,

it’s choices and business

I bloom in the ruin,

find god in the glitches

Great pain makes the diamond,

I’m calm in the friction

I keep beliefs in a lockbox,

out the box when I think

They fear the dark ‘cause they never learned to sit with the ink

I don’t get anxious,

I jump in, let the current decide

I trust the fall like a sermon,

find the purpose mid-dive

In love with shadows of people,

and the ones that are mine

See beauty in broken mosaics,

every crack is a line

Ugly got teeth where it’s honest, monsters tell the truth

I lack empathy,

still compassionate, paradox proof

Shallow feelings, heavy emotions

surface calm, undertow

I don’t feel much, but when I do,

it’s tectonic and slow

Principles etched in my spine,

morals wired to breath

Integrity cost me some rooms,

but it furnished my depth

I love from a distance like stars do,

heat without touch

Could isolate for a lifetime,

solitude ain’t too much

No hunger for closeness,

no thirst for a name on my chest

Still reach out ‘cause I know connection is medicine, yes

I show up for others out love,

not the need to be seen

I water gardens I won’t sit in,

that’s the man in between

I don’t flex for a mirror,

don’t beg for a witness

Love ain’t chains or a feeling,

it’s choices and business

I bloom in the ruin,

find god in the glitches

Great pain makes the diamond,

I’m calm in the friction

I dissect every cadence of people,

read tells in their tone

X-ray vision for motives,

see cracks in the bones

I don’t like being touched,

affection foreign to skin

Feels needless to nerves that grew up negotiating with sin

Still practice the hug like a discipline, logic over my fear

‘Cause safe love is built,

not assumed,

I engineer

I prioritize health in my bonds,

make the effort precise

Love is a verb,

not a leash, possession, or price

Not ownership or obsession,

It's a chemical storm

Consideration repeated ‘til it starts to feel warm

I’m distant but deep like the ocean, quiet violence in waves

I won’t drown you with feelings,

I’ll teach you to brave

Always okay on the surface,

underneath learning to breathe

Empty cups still pouring,

that’s the math of belief

I don’t chase understanding,

let it arrive when it’s ripe

I’m content being complex in a world addicted to simple advice

So bury my former reflections,

let compost finish the job

From rot I grew vision and patience,

from silence, I carved a new god

Past tense buried in present soil,

future speaking in code

I’m not defined by the scars

I’m the hand that wrote the road

In love with the dark ‘cause it showed me how to see light

I’m not the sum of what's happened to me

I’m what I choose to be

Every loss itemized.

Every breath documented.

still breathin’.

I keep receipts for the nights I almost folded inward.

Bank statements of pain where hope kept overdraftin’ interest.

You left me audited by ghosts with clipboards grinnin’,

Every memory cost more than it said on the ticket.

I was rich in denial,

went bankrupt in trust,

Now my sleep comes in fragments like pills crushed to dust.

Your name still trigger alarms in my chest,

Like a fire drill nobody warned me was next.

I learned pain got compound rates

it multiplies quick,

Every quiet minute adds a line item to risk.

I don’t drown in despair,

I invoice the bitch,

Send the void a bill every time it insist.

My hands shake but my pen don’t,

priorities set,

I write rage like interest on a debt I collect.

If survival’s a crime,

then arrest my intent,

I plead “not dead yet”

every breath I protect.

Blackout receipts,

every tear got a price.

I paid in my sleep,

now I’m livin’ on spite.

Blackout receipts,

you don’t leave for free.

Every scar got a fee

But I’m,

still breathin’.

My body remember shit my mouth won’t repeat,

Like trauma got fingerprints all over my dreams.

I wake up exhausted from fights I ain’t see,

Shadowboxing regrets that won’t answer to me.

The pills used to promise me silence and peace,

But I read the fine print,

they don’t cancel the grief.

They just push it ahead with compounding deceit,

So I stiff-arm the urge and grind teeth through the week.

I don’t pray for forgiveness,

I budget my wrath,

Allocate anger where mercy collapsed.

You taught me how absence can hollow a man,

So I fortified emptiness,

brick by brick, stat.

I ain’t healed,

I itemized damage instead,

Turned despair into numbers I balance with breath.

If I sound cold,

it’s ‘cause warmth almost killed me,

And I learned how to live with my chest under debt.

Count it.

Catalog it.

Don’t look away.

If I survived it,

I’m allowed to say it.

I don’t romanticize pain, I indict it,

Cross-examine the nights where my will went silent.

Every breakdown documented, timestamped violent,

But I’m still here writin’,

which fucks up the science.

You vanished clean,

left chaos in escrow,

I inherited damage you never meant though.

But I flip broken systems,

reroute the airflow,

Turn panic into fuel like Gotham

Scarecrow

I’m not a miracle

I’m a fuckin warning that lived,

What happens when rage refuse to quit.

They ask how I’m standing with this much weight,

I say “habit,”

then spit,

then regulate.

Blackout receipts I frame ‘em like art,

Hang ‘em on the wall of a barely-beatin’ heart.

If tomorrow wants proof I deserve a start,

I buried a version of me.

No flowers.

still breathin’.

I held a funeral for a future I planned in good faith,

Lowered dreams in the dirt with a scowl on my face.

Everybody wore black,

even time took the day,

I eulogized hope like it died of delays.

You promised me “always,”

I translated “temporary,”

Now permanence scares me more than the cemetery.

I don’t fear the end,

I fear gettin’ forgotten,

Mid-sentence, mid-struggle, mid-promise, mid-option.

I learned grief don’t scream,

it whispers polite,

Sits next to you quiet,

then ruins your night.

It don’t push you to edges,

just blurs all the lines,

Till survival feels pointless but quitting feels worse.

I shook hands with despair,

didn’t bow, didn’t kneel,

Told it “you ain’t my god, you just loud and persistent.”

Then I buried tomorrow with dirt on my nails,

And walked away breathing, offended but real

This a funeral for a future I lost,

No resurrection, just payin’ the cost.

I didn’t die with it

I just learned what it cost.

Funeral for a future

I’m still breathin’, boss.

My chest feels like church bells rung out of tune,

Every heartbeat a reminder I'm alive without you

The grief comes dressed as nostalgia and truth,

Tryna sell me the past like it still got value.

I don’t miss who you were,

I miss who I was,

Before love taught me how to fracture trust.

Now my guard stays up like it owes me money,

I let nobody in unless they bleed with me.

Addiction lingered like an unwanted pallbearer,

Hand on my shoulder, voice smooth, real patient.

I shook it off like “nah, you don’t get this body,”

I’m not numbin’ the proof that I fought through the lobby.

If pain's a religion,

I stopped bein’ devout,

Still study the text but I question it now.

I don’t worship despair I weaponize doubt,

And exhale defiance every time I breathe out.

Lower it slow.

Let it go.

No miracles promised

just bones and control.

I ain’t ask for this weight but I lift it with form,

Deadlift regret till my spine feels warm.

They say “move on,”

like it’s a direction,

I say “show me the map that ignore my complexion.”

I buried a future but not my breath,

That stayed clawed in my lungs outta pure disrespect.

If the dark wanted bodies,

it picked the wrong threat,

I’m the one that survived outta spite, not faith.

I don’t need closure,

I closed my fist,

And punched through the silence till it learned my pitch.

Now every scar got a story to tell,

"Breathing Is An Act (Of Violence)"

Every inhale

is resistance.

Still breathin’.

Breathing is an act of violence where I come from,

Every inhale a middle finger to what I succumbed to.

The dark wanted quiet,

I gave it percussion,

Chest thumpin’ rebellion with no introduction.

You ever wake up mad you survived the night?

Then get angrier still when you realize you might?

That rage ain’t weakness,

that rage is the fight,

That’s your body sayin’ “not tonight.”

They say “rest easy”

I rest hostile,

Jaw clenched so long it feel primal.

Peace ain’t my lane, I move spiteful,

Forward through wreckage,

unsmiling, vital.

This breath ain’t gentle

it’s serrated,

Cuts through the future

they premeditated.

I don’t float, I force air into lungs

Like “you gon’ work for me today, motherfucker.”

Breathing is violence, living’s defiant.

I don’t fade quiet, stay loud and reliant.

Breathin is violence, proof I’m resistant.

Every breath says

“I’m still here, come get it.”

Addiction hates breath,

it prefers you still,

Prefers you passive, obedient, nil.

I stay oxygen-hungry outta pure ill will,

I don’t wanna die

I wanna break the deal.

I survived nights that felt medically irresponsible,

Still woke up breathing; statistically hostile.

Doctors would call this improbable,

I call it rage with lungs unstoppable.

Every breath feels stolen back from despair,

Like I robbed the reaper and ran upstairs.

I ain’t grateful, gratitude feels unfair,

I’m just here outta spite and consistent repair.

If the void had a plan,

I disrupted the math,

Kept my lungs active through panic attacks.

I don’t glamorize pain, I document facts:

I breathed when it hurt.

That’s the whole contract.

In.

Out.

Against the odds.

That’s the prayer.

That’s the god.

They’ll never call this bravery,

it’s too aggressive,

They like survival clean,

inspirational, pleasant.

Mine got teeth in it,

rage in the sentence,

Blood in the margins,

breath as a weapon.

I don’t wanna be saved, I wanna persist,

I wanna outlive the nights that insist

I don’t deserve air or another attempt,

So I inhale hard outta pure disrespect.

This message ain’t hope,

it’s evidence logged,

Of a man who stayed breathing

while bein’ dissolved.

If tomorrow come violent,

I meet it involved,

With lungs full of “fuck you,” unsoftened, evolved.

Breathing is violent.

I do it on purpose.

Every second alive is

In the weeks leading up to this event, we had talked about arranging for him to move from Alabama to Colorado where I'm at to get his life back together and be away from the people, places, and things that were negatively influencing him and fueling his addiction. In that conversation I told him that I would arrange everything, all I needed was for him to be sober before he arrived.

"Go to rehab for a week or two, detox, and when you call me from the other side of that, I'll get you on a bus. I need to see that you're serious about this, and its no good for either of us if you show up here loaded or detoxing."

That was the very last conversation we had.

A week later, I got a call from his sister-in-law informing me that he'd attacked one of his neighbors to obtain their gun, which he then used on himself in his grandparents backyard.

I don't know and cannot fathom what came over him, but the person that I knew and cared for wouldn't, couldn't have done such an awful thing.

The fact that he did tells me that he was hurting so terribly that he was willing to do anything to make it stop.

Rationally, I know better, but I still can't help feeling guilty for creating the boundaries that I set in regard to him moving in with me. Because if I hadn't, if I had just told him to come on up instead, then two people might still be alive and countless more wouldn't be mourning.

Anyway, here's wonderwall.

"A Summer Morning in Blount County, Alabama"

There’s a bend in the asphalt where the pines lean low,

Rust in the soil, even weeds won’t grow

Cicadas hum like they know something’s wrong,

Even the daylight don’t stay there long.

I grew up knowing that stretch of ground,

Where prayer sinks and echos drown,

And some nights you can feel it breathe,

Like the earth itself won’t let you leave.

There’s a cloud over Gilliland Road,

Don’t matter if the sky’s clear blue.

It follows your name like a whispered oath,

It remembers things we never do.

You can drive it fast, you can walk it slow,

But it’s heavier the longer you know

That shade on Gilliland Road

Was waiting on me and you.

He had a laugh like a summer storm,

Came in loud, left the room warm.

Hands always shaking, not from the cold,

From carrying more than he ever told.

Promises stacked like unpaid dues,

Every sunrise something else to lose.

He swore he’d quit by the end of the week,

But the night kept teaching him how to speak.

There’s a cloud over Gilliland Road,

Hangs low where the good times die.

You swear you’re fine, 'til the truth unloads

And you can’t meet your own eyes.

Hope’s a house with the lights still on,

But the doors been locked since God knows when

That shade on Gilliland Road

Don’t ever ask how you’ve been.

Needle by pill, day into day,

Trying to numb what won’t go away.

Angels don’t knock, just pass on by,

When you start making friends with the reasons why.

We talked about leaving, changing our names,

Burning the past, outrunning the pain,

But the road kept pulling him back like a tide,

To the place where the dark felt justified.

One summer morning, the air stood still,

No birds, no wind, just the weight of the wheel

Two hearts caught in a moment too tight,

Where fear mistook itself for right.

No sirens rang, no warning sign,

Just thunder and silence breaking out of time.

By evening, the road knew more than it should,

And the shadow stood where neither one could.

There’s a cloud over Gilliland Road,

Even memory won’t drive through clean.

Some debts get paid, some just get owed,

Some sins don’t show where they’ve been.

If love was enough, we’d have won that fight,

But love don’t cure every kind of blight

That shade over Gilliland Road

Still says his name to me.

If I’d known the weight he was under,

I’d have laid down mine instead.

If time could bend like that old road does,

I’d stop us before the bend.

But the past don’t answer, ghosts don’t call,

And guilt’s just a double-wide with broken walls.

Now I drive real slow past that stretch of ground, radio off, windows down

I talk to the dark like it’s my oldest friend,

Ask it where he’s been.

The cloud just moves, like it always does,

Down Gilliland Road, under God’s blind sun

And I carry him with me, mile by mile,

I been fucked up,

Crawlin’ through the pain

till my luck’s cut,

Shadow on my back screamin’ “jump,” but

I tell that bitch

“shut the fuck up.”

I’m drugged up,

Burnin’ every bridge

that ever loved us,

Grief in my teeth,

I bite the sun’s crust

Life’s a throat I can’t stop cuttin’ numb, trust.

I spit razorblades,

hope flayed,

veins sprayed with the rage I saved,

Caved in

from days enslaved,

amazed I ain’t stayed

in a grave I paved.

Brain’s a cave

with the dead replayed,

parade of mistakes serenadin’

the ache I crave.

I’m a fuck-up forged in frost,

cross-wires in a mind

still mourning loss.

Torn and tossed

like a corpse divorced from breath,

Death flirtin’ with me

like a whore with cost.

Malice in my marrow,

sorrow in my shadow,

tryna swallow all the pain I never lost.

Memory’s a scalpel,

I dissect regret,

dissected sets of threats

I can’t forget.

Every tear’s a tier

in hells architecture,

I’m half alive,

half abandoned,

like passion evaporated

in the ruins I landed.

I hold knives in my chest,

knives that jest at my pulse,

fuck the protest I branded.

Rage is a roommate,

spite is my plate,

chew bitterness raw

like it’s gourmet

I pace the floorboards of my mind, doors boarded

with echoes I can’t allay.

Every night

I fight with the spite inside,

confide in voids like brides denied,

Tried suicide,

knives baptized in cries,

yet I survive, tied to lies, I ride.

Faith fractured,

shards in the bloodstream

scratching at my last reactions,

I’m orbiting ghosts,

close to overdose,

but I toast to the hollow fractions.

Fuck peace,

I’m a piece of grief unleashed,

a beast on a leash

Best not try to feast on me

Addiction flickers

Friction in the circuitry,

every craving engraving depravity’s legacy.

I’m missing pieces

even my shadow splits when my demons talk,

Bleeding secrets,

smoking regrets like cigarettes,

silhouettes of threats I can’t block.

Spite is my sport,

I torch remorse,

force course through wars

with no source

but the core of gore,

Every scorned memory’s

a thorn in my chest,

blood-wired to the unrest I abhor.

I’m sore from mourning

the me that died,

every tear revives the corpse I tried,

Life is a tightrope on fire,

I’m wired to inspire

through desire I’ve denied.

Every night’s a litany of losses,

coffins of causes

I carried like crosses.

I toss caution in cauldrons

of toxic logic,

every choice a poison,

glosses losses.

Malice is my muse,

Rage is the fuse,

Love’s a memory I can’t re-use,

I fuse my pain

into verses that maim,

flame-spit frames of me, profuse.

My conscience is a tundra,

haunted

by daunting fonts of thoughts

that taunt me constant.

Bitterness sits like sediment,

sentiment severed

whenever I let it vent.

I rage at

pages where

hope never stayed,

wrath parades

in the halls I’ve paved,

Yet I crawl through the wreckage, covered in years I never cleared,

still depraved.

Thorns in my throat,

choke notes of hope,

every line a lifeboat I can’t row,

I provoke ghosts

to stroke my pulse,

the cult of faults

assault through volts.

I’m a violent hymn,

violin of sin,

wired inside

like barbed spines under skin.

Bitterness drills like a villain’s grin, when I breathe,

air feels guilty again.

Fuck it

I rise from the slump

like a drunk with a grudge,

Crushed under sludge,

Lungs hummin’ “enough,”

blood on the page,

rage on the judge.

Every cut's a covenant

carved in pain,

prayer through the blade

just to say "I remain",

Ashes whisper secrets

I can’t sustain,

still I walk through storms

soaked in disdain.

Spite’s my choir,

Voices wired like fire,

pyres for desire,

liar in the mirror, admire.

Longing for a version of me

That never existed,

twisted by distance

between my wishes and my limits.

Yet I’m still here,

pierced by fears,

smeared tears,

shattered gears,

Steering through wreckage,

even hollow, I’m alive,

prowlin' through the years.

I keep fallin’

Into the dark

where my heart keeps callin’.

Every scar keeps talkin’

Every voice sounds like mine dissolvin’.

I keep crawlin’

Even when death keeps stalkin’.

Ain’t no coffin

Just a mind that rots

I ain’t suicidal

I’m just fluent in metaphors that flirt with gravity.

Read between the lines

and watch the fall rewrite itself.

I’m in a grief-loop, deep-root, pressure-cookin’ freefall,

Thoughts ricochet in my skull like a street-brawl.

My heartbreak baroque

every note’s a cathedral,

And I’m conductin’ my collapse like a lethal recital.

I’m a paradox

pain proxy, oxy-optional,

Chronological collapse in a bottle, unstoppable.

My conscience controversial

got it boxed in a locker room,

Shadowbox thoughts while the trauma plays announcer-boom.

I been spiralin’, viral in my vices like a biohazard,

Tryna mask the meltdown with a downer call it cryo-plaster.

You left my psyche in a cycle of psycho-laughter,

Echoes in my chest like a choir singin’ “die slow, bastard.”

I ain’t solicitin’ death just depictin’ the premise,

My mental health a battlefield with ballistic aesthetics.

Your ghost cut deep, now my soul need stitches,

But I rhyme through the pain like I’m bendin’ grief physics.

Triple entendre trauma:

fall as in heartbreak, fall as in seasons, fall as in descent

but I ain’t jumpin’, bitch

I’m studyin’ the architect.

My pain built skyscrapers you abandoned mid-project,

Now I’m rappin’ through the dust where your love left objects.

Internal rhyme chains snake like an aneurysm’s hum,

Sharp enough to slit the tension but not the artery drum.

Thoughts loud but I mute the beat before it numbs,

Turn despair into percussion hear the heartbreak thrum.

Frame the fall in four dimensions

height, hurt, hope, and apprehension.

You broke my spine with good intentions,

Now I stand with spite for reinvention.

Frame the fall but I don’t drop,

I just bend physics till the anguish stops.

You left me cracked but the cracks don’t rot,

They glow like proof of every war I fought.

I’m a paradox playlist,

“don’t die” on repeat,

“don’t trust” on shuffle,

“don’t heal” on delete.

But I navigate the static like a prophet off-beat,

Turnin’ breakdowns into cipher bars and coded retreats.

Your betrayal hit surgical, cold-lab precision,

Now my ribcage whistle like a post-op incision.

But I stitch each breath with stubborn ambition,

’Cause I’m too spiteful to quit, survival’s my supervision.

Even my tears got subplots; they drop with meaning,

Every drip a footnote to the pain I’m screening.

I ain’t courting the void, the void just leaning,

But I dodge that embrace like a punch with feeling.

Triple entendre blade:

Sharp tongue, dull ache, cut ties

you swung the first slice, now I weaponize why.

Turn grief into choreography, watch the dead hope fly,

But I’m still anchored to breath.

Oxidized but alive.

I fall,

but not far;

I break,

but not hard.

I bleed,

but in bars

and that’s how I dodge the dark.

Frame the fall in four dimensions

height, hurt, hope, and apprehension.

You broke my spine with good intentions,

Now I stand with spite for reinvention.

Frame the fall

But I don’t drop,

I just bend physics till the anguish stops.

You left me cracked but the cracks don’t rot,

They glow like proof of every war I fought.

Frame the fall

but the ground never gets me.

I’m too stubborn to die

I am a treacherous lecherous leper that lurks deep beneath the earth

I was birthed, of and into the dirt

I was cursed to be worthless

And I'm worse

Im a spider with a smile drivin your hearse

Or I'm the little sack of dope in your purse

I'm the itch you'll never scratch

The black dog on your back, like your anchor to earth

I could be a preacher or a

demon even

screaming in church

Serving you a sermon on how deep we can hurt

I'm a ghost inside your heart, girl

a whisper in your head.

A vision in the dark, just

a zombie in your bed.

Im a billion blisters that pulse inside

Your mind every time you speak your lies

Cause every man who loves you dies inside the empty irises you disguise behind your blacked out grey and fetid eyes

Here together, silent, blind

We sit until the gods on high

Descend from and crack the sky

With a flash of light

Violent, violet, ash, and white

We were treacherous lecherous lepers

Birthed, of and into the dirt

We were cursed to be worthless

We were worse

Now we lurk beneath the earth, feed the worms, flowers, and birds.

No more preaching, screaming legions or hurt.

Just dirt.

"I'm not the beast they've made me out to be

I've done some good things

I've done some good things

Like you, I've stumbled once or twice

And done some bad things

I've done some bad things

My body is a thing corrupt and wrong

It is guilty

Yeah, it is guilty

My spirit is the thing that's dragged along

It is innocent

Lord, it is innocent

O, separate my body from my soul

O, separate my body from my soul

Let's go back to how things were back then

When I was younger

When I was younger

Everything was either black or white

It was easier

So much easier

Now everything, it looks so gray

I'm older

Now, I'm older

Show me a man who deserves to die

You cannot convince me

You cannot convince me

Now, show me a man who deserves to live

You have no evidence

You have no evidence

O, separate my body from my soul

O, separate my body from my soul

I tried so hard to tell you truth

But I lied to you

I have lied to you

The things that you learn and know so well

They are fleeting

Yes, they are fleeting

You're the one who told me who I was

You said you're no one

So now I'm no one

O, separate my body from my soul

"But I'm on the outside, I'm looking in

I can see through you, see your true colors

"I want love to walk right up and bite me

Grab a hold of me and fight me, leave me dying on the ground.

And I want love to split my mouth wide open and cover up my ears and never let me hear a sound.

I want love to forget that you offended me

Or how you have defended me when everybody tore me down.

"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road

Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go

So make the best of this test, and don't ask why

"You're perfect, yes, it's true

But without me you're only you

Your menstruating heart

"And suddenly, I become a part of your past

I'm becoming the part that don't last

"Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion between supposed lovers."

"Schism" - Tool