the urge has never felt stronger
but i've sworn to myself that i wont

it's for them
my existence is crucial

my thoughts need to pour into this world
so i am still here
and still functional

nothing is as gut wrenching and debilitating than this
my soul, sliced with a precision knife
butterflied open

like a closet full of nightmares that never end
close it, just one at a time
i'm just a fuckin rag at this point

i've been stained, used, and tossed onto the floor,
stuck behind a dryer and covered in lint,
unable to get out from behind of here