Thus Is Why My World Must Be Aged Fourteen

Hollow hand led shallow world your grave you dug for me. To keep in sleep. When deep within your hole I live, and breath. Then die again once more each day, I am. Must I see, the tearing yes, give in to pain, that bore the best, too him, I am your grave, lest I forget your life within my sun, it's blinded eye. You must be his lifer and you her padded cell. I see denial in us all, each living death can't sell. If I see enough and how you made me feel, each then and now your past you live again. Now I can not touch your robe of black, it's hem I always felt, such was it once my friend. While beating others as a child, you knew I ran away.