• How does it feel to know your life is wasting away?
    Looking in the mirror to see blue-black skin.
    Not from the abuse, but from the blood in the veins wanting to escape.

    How does it feel to know your body's breaking through the skin as your mind claws away at the walls of it's cell until you're just laying there, in a pool of your own blood, begging for no rescue-
    The burning metal still smoking away?
    Like the set of chills after the first puff, the first hit, the first cut, the first orgasm?
    Like knowing it's bad, but you can't help yourself?
    Like wanting help from everyone, but not seeing eye-to-eye because they saw you so raw and naked?

    Aren't we all just naked and falling?
    Falling into piles of varying objects?
    Falling so hard that it's only the outlook that determines whether you land face-up or not?

    How does it feel to fall face-down in a pile of razorblades staring at a mirror under your nose to show you the failure staring back?