Taste of darkness

Physically eating away at my brain
My conscience going insane

But how do I hang onto my insides when I want them outside
To fix, with the natural human phenomenon to pry

Just give me hope before I make my wrists cry

A type of biological vanity of the mind
To always think of new way to repress and induce me into a state of anxiety even though it is me

If I scream will you hear me then
Or will that just make you uncomfortable enough to section me

Before all I am dangles in front of the false me

Before I’m left with loose footing on this bridge

I wish it would get a little brighter, I can’t seem to get my feet right…

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