Ataxia

I want so badly to believe

In the world in the magazines:

Better homes,

Life refined.

(But I'm) without a catalyst,

Without the glossy print.

I'm wearing thin,

Like the conscience of a funeral arranger.

Wearing thin and breaking fast,

Shallow breaths.

Don't look this way

Because I'll pull you in

Because I'll pull you in faster

Than you can say 'GO.'

You'll be all I have; you're fucked.

Times owns my body, and my mind.

Escape is on my mind.

Escape is on my mind.

Life redefined: cyclical days of

Waking, working, regretting.

Listen.

Hear that void?

Listen.

Hear that void?

It's me.

It's me.

It's me.

It's me.