Dragging every fucking chain, cold and fucking pointless, 'til my hands bleed a trail. Until I beat my knuckles bare. I want nothing, I feel nothing. Only constant disappointment and a step that's hard and cruel. I want shelter, I want shade.
Every breath is like pushing anvils from my chest.
Sleeping with an anxious tremor. It holds me and it speaks for me. Pain is all I have in life. Take your shelter, find your shade underneath the reaper's hood.