I think I’m gonna die the first time
or the second
or the third
but here I am, for the five hundred and ninety second time, feeling myself being ripped out of my body
slowly;
sorely
Have you ever
been in this much amount
or felt this kind
of pain
The one that got stuck in your throat
choking the hell out of you
until no air is coming through
Or maybe this one
where your gut being smashed
a hundred maybe a million times
making your eyes blown
taking your mind into a dizzy-town
Or
even both simultaneously occur.
In that exact moment
you are no longer the controller
of your ability; of your mentality
people everywhere are flying
and you are being left drowning.
And, oh, why do I ask this to you
the kind of person
who think they are the only one who suffer
while anyone’s pain is beyond under
But here is the thing:
You wish you’d die and
you actually could
I wish I’d die and
the next hour I found myself lucid
only to go through again that kind of shit
with being nowhere near to death.
Oh, if only I could let go and make this stop
I would rather have a choice to wish
I’d die from this
But I don’t and you do and
Leider, darling, while we are inimical
somehow we are equal.
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