#finallylyyyyy

"The sickest people are "Right" and the Right see us as... Sick. Poetic. To be spat on is sick- And yet, the Sick are being spit on, and having their hair pulled, their skin peeled off like a sticker on a wall. In hiding, we converse like our lives aren't a ticking time bomb. When the clock hits zero, you'll be waking, they'll be taking, and I'll be taken. An invitation to the Hospital. "He wants to see you," the Hospital. The red says hello, you will tread the dead like a welcome mat, and you will find me, taken. My ribs will say hello and a drowning... clueless sensation of desperation will draw you near. Don't trust it. (Trust it) Because only then will you truly face the reality... The reality is