Friday, August 13, 2010

Waiting

Lights burn your eyes like acid, acid rain. Stepping from the eye of the storm; from the crazy to insane. It's sad because you just can't see to walk in a straight line, but no one's even watching you so you've got lots of time.
Flashing acid circles and pools in great deep cuts. Stinging in the wounds, it just, just hurts so much.
But no one's even listening to hear your terror-screams, so it doesn't really matter if they told you you were free.
See, but being stuck is something that you know you'll grow to like.
Head between the bars and it's easy to reach the spikes.
And that way you can puncture your skin and get out some of the blood,
and scream and cry and fucking yell when the storm turns into flood.

The water rises over your head and you feel your lungs explode.
It hurts so much you'd rather die, but you've got to follow code.
Being strong is such a task that it takes it's toll on you,
and as you bleed you realize that you know just what to do.

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