18 November 2014

Quite The Opposite of Adrenaline

It doesn't comes close to making sense anymore
I've gained so much of myself that reality has become
So far to be much of a nothingness
I can't wish my pain upon anyone
Trapped within the prison I erected with glial
My own personal glory box
Fucking everything without discretion while
I hide myself away from it all from everyone
To keep myself on the fringe
Comfortable yet in agony
Loving and dreading the attention
Purchasing an early bird ticket
One day I'll have dim lit quiet spaces
To myself and those of my choosing

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