Muddy Place

Sinking

This sinking feeling seemingly

Neverending

I pretend to defend myself with

Plastic swords and fabric myth

The grand delusion of a martyr and the consistency of Sisyphus

This

Stone-cold feeling weighing heavily

On my chest,

Forcing out breath after breath, after breath,

Yet never allowed to decompress

No external factors driven by habitual powers

Just the remnants of steel knives and failed lives I've put behind me

Yet the shrapnel stays sharp inside me

Hollow body, full of lies

Sickly thoughts and practiced sighs

Aged lines are no disguise

No care or love, no family ties

No one to hold me while I die,

Because make no mistake, I've almost reached the bottom,

And when I do, it will be as if I had never fallen in.