Distress

This world is a deceiver it is thirsty for my blood the rain is liquid nitrogen to my soul of a wrong colour this world is a deceiver it vomits sticky oil on me stab me kill me I hate this all to much. May my face ripping tears be the salt in your open wounds ...it all is about to slip from my hands I want you I don't want you the white of yours is growing on me the air is thin I want to be gone broken and shattered...