Submitted Date 12/10/2019

Treat my prison like a hiding place

Let the bear hibernate in the darkness you're not willing to embrace

Let the void that grows grow and grow

Not going to lie

Almost feels like instinct to call this twisted place home


Body washed out in reverb

A primal urge one can taste

It's a sick thing to accept

That base impulse tickling your ear


As it creeps in

Your chest crumbles

Your knees dance to the deafening silence

Come into frame


Treat this prison as it was meant to be,

In a way

Broken chards of glass coming

back together

Distorted in form


Denial is lethal

Denial is lethal

Denial is lethal

Denial is...



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