i ve pushed a chair below the fixture i ve tied a knot around the rod still i ve yet to find the courage to take that step forward coiled around each moment growing in our organs nobody gets around it friendships never feel substantial lovers see me at my worst no joy in social interaction no pleasure left in sexual conquest just wasted life force torn flesh an overrated high once the body exceeds its shelf life theres no temptation or desire seems like every connection that i make inevitably turns morose or banal but chasing comfort through the gutters led me here one fix away from a perfect place into the fold of heavens captives locked in a cell behind its gates stripping away the moral bondage laying the mind and heart to waste into the burn gathering light severing self from flesh and blood into the void into the end falling spinning suddenly i am moving through the moments of my crimes seeing myself through my victims eyes now i am the carrion my own release the blackest recess my deepest need i m not suffering i am blossoming into an absence an open vacancy i m not afraid i am finally at peace
['noise punk']