Once my half dead corpse collides with the earth,
How much tissue will be split?
(Don't jump, don't jump, don't you $#&@ing dare)


The already anemic quality of trust dissipates into a mirage


Free-fall makes the mind wander: Six others on the back-burner
Sometimes the pan that heats the fastest
Sometimes the pan heats faster

It hits the hardest of all

Six years, five deaths, and four $#&@s later here I am


Inform me, once again why I am here with a voice
To reason with.

This life has become a montage.
Believe me the truth speaks louder than words (louder than words)