I'd love to spend my life savings on this sideshow,

But the outside is too far a reach..

I feel these desperate lurches in my stomach,

When i try to walk outside this painful cycle.

I cant remain without this.

You couldnt see this truth if i stood you in front of it.

You let me down with your surmounting ignorance,

You lift me up with your sickening love-tales.

I think this one-frame whirlwind is becoming too much a tax on my soul,

Or, what part of this decaying life-slop you could name my "soul".

The pretty part of this picture is grotesque.

Unless you walk through this door, im maintaining stubborness...

What the fuck will you do if this ends?

Im encased, im enveloped in walls with one sole escape,

A hole pierced through the middle of my very lungs.

A very breath is hell for me, you wouldnt understand.

If i were god, i'd have done my job and, thus, paid my dues.

So try thinking of me this way; picture perfect is the illest of fantasies.

Dont misunderstand.

Ill as in your oxygen turned thick yellow scum,

Your only source of solace turned a shrapnel filled pit,

And your skin crawls with the remnants of despoilers.

The illest of feeling is when you knew you were raped,

But you opened the door yourself and threw down the doormat.

Who's reputation can you soil because you're the shit of everyone.

You're the shit of everyone you know,

And you've got to find a way to change that.

You spit up this rampant world on me..and then you grieve when i shower of this cruelty.

Now you understand, that this one-frame whirlwind isnt enough to capture my eye,

I long for things you couldnt dream of.

I need the equality and fame i was starved of as i watched them skin this once beautiful child,

Who are you to ask of my return?

I couldnt even in all my wisdom and wordiness describe the pain i've been caused..

You are starting to curdle and i will wash what is left of you away if need be.