Even If I turn it all off,
All distractions set aside,
My head soon fills,
With white noise amplified.

My soul is absent; it's somewhere outside.

Even if I wrestle with the nervous pulse,
My head implodes again,
Becomes so small, just big enough,
For the chemical persuasion,

In the stem of my brain

My soul is mostly absent cause I never cling,
Sadly I must say, I don't feel a thing.


I remember the way I felt,
My thought was whole,
Now full of holes,
Through which in tiny trickles,

Like a cyv, I ran out of belief.

My head is as small as a pin,
My heart becomes a box,
Locked and bolted in the midst,
Maybe I'm somewhere,

Maybe I don't exist.

My soul is mostly absent cause I never cling,
Sadly I must say, I don't feel a thing

I shut down. Now I woke up, and  am becoming..