She Who Thirsts

You only live twice, once in your dreams and once in real life,
And I guess that means that I'm halfway there cause I no longer dream with closed eyes,
Merely project my fears onto my waking mind to form a tapestry of blurry, shaking lines,
My demise is emphasised by the passage of time, cause I survived but I never got the chance to shine,
And they say that these years are the best of my life but if that's the case then I'm ready to die
I am sick of all this, still a bottomless abyss, who should bottle even this inside, so feel free to take the piss
Remind me how I won't be missed when I accept the reaper's kiss
Cause every day I'm crawling closer to this existential cliff
I see the motion of the ocean welcome me into it's grip
As I release mine,
Rushing air and a snapping spine,
I see a light and it's far from divine
Which seems to pull at this shattered mind,
Til finally I allow it's gentle gravity to wrap me up in a metaphysical cocoon of non-existence and the thousands of millions of scrambled and static frequencies that plagued my mind every second of every f*****g day I spent on this blasted Earth seem to align into a single repeated statement;
"You are mine.
You are mine.
You are mine."

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Makes Camus seem jolly. Death as relief.