Somnambulist
(sic)monic

Blood of the fallen, a somnambulist wretched and prophetic slaves to the

system who carves out her own eyes with razorblades leaving a blister it takes

form evaporative translucent prisms reflecting they shatter infesting all I see

in a tongue I lace with insanity a phantomous illumination I will never be

painted on the walls with the blood of a paranormal cataclysm I will never see

feed upon the saints and eradicate the elemental sacrificial bones that break

in a dream of isolated ambiance I find myself in cold sweats wide awake cause

I've got punctures in my lungs gonna tear me out fucking rip me out suffocate

disintegrate love will never penetrate these walls I build with my symptoms

conniptions inflictions a slave to my symptoms Denial- I'm just fine don't

touch me clairvoyance- these beings confront me through violence I am

deconstructing my soul by removing my eyes from my skull just to see or feel

something hallucinogenic pathetically craving what kills me and destroys the

voice that's relentlessly echoing carving a vision of what once was, what has

been could be anything but these purple angelic pupils that haunt my dreams

wide awake and falling asleep where I stand I'm the saint who prays with slit

wrist at midnite for the moonlight for the sunset for the experience of the

sickening decay if I had a reason just to breathe another breathe I wouldn't

need this phantomous illumination deep inside painful accusations resonating

thru these conversations spoken in the tongue of psychotropic demonized pitiful

acidic catastrophic condescending paranoid delusionary penetrating finalized so

murderous the conversation that I heard between the voices venomous and

complicated somewhat fantasized*

I could be the one to hold and love and uplift u or I could be the one to

devastate disintegrate and move to impale u I feed on the wounds that my manic

episodes do heal or dig further too reveal the degenerative failures inside all

of u I'm fucking digging in my soul I'm fucking carving out a hole I'm the

saint who prays with slit wrists at midnite cause I've got punctures in my lungs

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