every-time i step, my heart beat, the blood pumping as it races past my ears.

my eyes are coated, my lungs expand and contract, and i am moving;

moving; moving; moving

what what they think if they came down from the heavens for a week to join us?

how would they feel about watching us spit up all of our venom,

in a mucous textured wads of sadness and resent?

how would they feel about watching us confined within these invisible walls?

we come, and go,

wake, and sleep,

dread, and push through it

day in and day out.

the gravel underneath my feet is black and speckled with cigarette butts

and crumbled up gum wrappers.

i'm cold, and covered in rags that seem to shout to the people walking

by that i should be persecuted.

are they better than i am

because they gave in? are they better than me

because they gave it all away?

because they stayed inside the walls?

maybe the successful ones are the ones who look the worst. maybe they're dying. maybe they're hungry and homeless. but at least they're more alive than you could ever be.

i can't get away from here. i can't hop on a train and find a place to settle down because it's everywhere. we don't get a choice

we go because we have too.

because we live in a world where staying isn't an option.

if you stay

you rot.

if you stay

you can't do anything.

you have to live in resent.

puddles of resent

brainwashed in to thinking that you don't deserve to be happy

if you aren't first punished.

brainwashed in to thinking that you have freedom.

a mouse locked in a cage can decide wether or not he runs on his wheel or not

but he can't get out.

he can't decide anything outside of that cage.

and that cage is this world.

i'm dead.

i am dead and the only time my eyes open

and i can breathe

the only time i feel warm and full

the only time i can forget

is whenever i'm with you.