Archives of pain
Riddled with holes
Choking my fingertips
Like blood from a stone
Shiver through sweat
Sheets soaked in shame
Sleep deprived as blood runs high to scorch my mind
And that's just fine
That's just fine
That's f*cking fine
My waist looks so thin, an exquisite tombe
I can't see a f*cking thing, there's vomit on my phone
Smoke out the sickness with deep but shallow tokes
Crawling on the piss stained floor heaving out my throat
Cross stich across my pores
Sew up the holes I have formed