Woorden: Allison Crowe. Disease.

Stepping on
the thoughts of all pain
released from this anger
is some place I would like to be
and when I feel myself defeated
I bleed
and when I see them twist around
dancing in their own wake
I rage

And I don't want to exist on this plane
crashing down to the level of
depth of skin
flesh and bone
all wrapped up in pages
flashed in our faces
laughing and spiteful

Run away

Lost again
misdirected and folded
drowned in bones
and thrown away
they told me to disappear
and slowly dive
into the shallow end
of the gene pool

Try to hold on to what I believe
disappeared
no longer here as anything but

wretched and disfigured
so I slash myself again
and I drown my hopes again
lose myself in this disease

Lost again
misdirected and folded
drowned in bones
and thrown away
they told me to disappear
and slowly dive
into the shallow end
of the gene pool

Cut yourself to the mold
Nothing left to rid yourself of
but bile and blood
torn skin screaming
and silenced as we
replace marble with plastic

Lost again
misdirected and folded
drowned in bones
and thrown away
they told me to disappear
and slowly dive
into the shallow end
of the gene pool