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and it's always rewinding. we're moving in hyper-speed. guidance is unrequired. we'll stumble upon the substances we need to feel whole and complete, and we'll let them control our legs and torsos. our saviors become our martyrs become our murderers become our child molestors. god create for me a new body one that can handle all the substances i've set out to abuse. we'll worship our benefactors with open palms. not that it mattered. and it doesn't matter because i won't even see 20. and you have no one to blame it on, what a shame! and it's okay because, i couldn't lie to save my habits. we ride a nonstop cycle of doubt, pain and addiction. we're fighting the life we want. we kick and scream, we suffocate, we lust, our bodies destroy themselves.we feed ourselves the very things that will kill us. in excess. we ride on white lines until we crash. our hands scramble to create our narcissistic lives. our movies or our lives? our movies, our lives? our movies ARE our lives. where does the millimeter start and where do the credits end? the blood flows from our chest like water. our nostrils burn, our throats go numb. we're dehydrated, still we scramble, we fuss. we hold ourselves up with our broken arms. the lives we lost under the roof in my cramped bedroom, with the rain breaking through the ceiling. the five of us breaking apart every bone in our bodies, to reconstruct ourselves, to reconstruct our lives, to reach the perfection we always wanted but could never find. still the blood flows from our chest like water, and as our eyes become battered and torn by the light, i raise my voice, i raise my fist, and proclaim, god isn't playing nice today. But still, the blood flows from our chest. like water.



You gotta do your best to decorate this dyin'day

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