nothing too great or novel to share

just words that can’t quite sum up these feelings

i keep itching and picking at the scabs and the scars

did quite a shitty job stitching myself back together last summer

masochist and all, just having to rip it all apart

pour a little disinfectant on her, that’ll do

if it doesn’t work hold the wounds together with some glue

must’ve been when the infection crept in, but too busy getting lost, finding the next distraction

always been a bit dissociative, delusional, mad

explains why it’s just run rampant all throughout me

explains the burning in my veins, pains in my chest, sore muscles, you know the rest

it’s comforting to know when the time comes, i can finally feel again

but these wounds aren’t healing, parts of me id rather forget keep oozing out, not enough hands to put me back to rest

instead just laying here, wincing in pain, stroke of luck brings a few tears, reminds me that im still here, it’s okay, it’s okay

this is what happens when you let it in, it doesn’t want to leave

grabbing tightly onto the sheets while someone else helps cut out all the rotten parts of me, but they will leave too, eventually

nothing can withstand this disease

nothing will ever last

nothing will ever mean

all we’ve got are blood soaked sheets and promises unfulfilled, my fevers running high, but i know it’s still here

and maybe, death isn’t quite here, but god does it feel like it

i know im a diseased, dying, rotten girl, but just one last embrace, pretty please

this condition isn’t contagious, it takes time, the kind you’d never spend on me

but still can’t help, lying here, to wonder what a life would be like being sick with me

it’s okay, we know you won’t, so i don’t ask, just keeping these songs playing for company, close my eyes, dream of the world where it would all be lovely

another life