The Brave Wear Black With Blue

sometimes I wish to cut myself open just to see what is hidden inside how lucky I am even Jack the Ripper would bypass me that's how lucky I am but I wish to see what am I made of what's so heavy inside that keeps my head just above the water enough not to drown sufficient to maintain disabled when I open my cavities and arrange my intestines all over that metal table when those heavy gasses deflate I might be finally liberated unless it is my soul a heavy 21 gram that reflects odor no wonder lungs collapsed maintaining my vocal cords agglutinated (haven't let out a voice in a long time) and my neural synapses dried I'm fuc*ing dried out there's nothing left inside only a velums from organic structures I'm like a pile of used plastic bags maybe that's the reason I feel nothing (plastic is a flinty bit*h) I'm overpolluted garbage built impediments (nothing can circulate) and I have chest pain as my feelings are strong-willingly and forcefully ramming at that tortured core membrane (still didn't cry) You died on me I can still feel you haven't shed a tear but I can feel you shadows walking behind me yours is the laudest