Shoot Me

Filter all of which you will instill so I can sit still again Sift through my sheltered skin cells my gracious friend Cannot attend the ceremony of what is to come Sitting in the corner of what you've become Illustrated with incorrect grammar for me to read Philanthropy brings him what he needs to finally breed Crashing into what this person sees as his reality Heaving so my lungs fill with this horrid presence Taste what I thought was juices of a wounded one Blistering light bring me what had been my mortality Excerpts seem familiar but the mind creams again Forget what had been happened to what I will lend Upon a burning spear the flesh drips so I can see What is to be is nothing but another reason to be free

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