pounding / pounding heart in my chest / i don’t really panic anymore / no / no it’s more subtle than that these days / burrowed under my flesh to evade detection / but when the sky gets black / and the thunder keeps me cooped up in my room / i can still feel it / slithering beneath old cobblestones / and pounding at its cage / i should have known that sweeping a rug over my problems / was not a good response / but i still forget some days / and it’s beating / it’s beating like a muscle / eager to be used / it is raw and wet and warm / on my outstretched fingertips / because this shit adds up / like the heap of books by my bed / and i say i’ll read them / but the flickering colours on the billboards just have a way of drawing me in, you know? / and isn’t that true love / when your throat seizes up and your mouth starts to water / and in the end, i can’t say no to you / can’t protest / can’t change my mind / so if things are never gonna be better, the least we can do is have fun while we die / die / die / like butterfly wings / and fish bones / and seashells / slowly rotting to the ground / ’cause there’s nothing i can do / except watch in horror as the rain comes down

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