oh-so-tense in my head
feels more than half-dead
i pinch my skin & yet all i see
is shooting daggers straight at me
it doesn't make sense
this doesn't make sense
the scope is immense i can't take the suspense & i don't like surprises & there's too many rhymes, too many ideals too easy to compromise...
i could run & try to hold onto
or i could feel this pain & cry, too
the answer is something i can't touch
why am i able to hurt me so much?
indeed i live much too awkwardly
indeed i can't handle, well, anything
effectively lost & spinning (she's spinning)
i talk in third person so i don't feel alone
what that says about me, i don't care to know
misinterpret this; i can barely speak anyway-
i whisper these screams & can't even explain...