End me because when you sent me to ground, my lungs caved in
I dug my own hole, shovel in hand, but when I looked back at you, mama, you threw me in, and the door slammed shut
Did you hear me scream, mama, my scream
You must have because I heard you sing.
You left me here with no one to hear the sharp hisses that claw at this cage
This white tomb runs bloody with black stains because I cannot forget
I cannot forget the bitter taste of gravel and salt in my mouth when the dirt seeped through the cracks
When I looked up at you with blurry eyes, that liquid was not tears, mama, fore I had none to spare
With every gasp my lungs filled with “not good enough” and “you’re never going to be”
And they tear at my insides, mama, they tear at my skin
So, please, let me out, mama, because I cannot breathe, mama, end it!
I hear voices, and they sing the same softness as your skin, dancing on this tomb
I cannot breathe because my lungs ruptured long ago from the broken “I’ll be back’s”
And mama, I grew tired of building mountains in your image
I worshiped them in idolatry, but they smite me, mama, they smite me
So, I knocked them all down, and mama, they turned to stone
When the light crept in, it burned, mama, it burned because I forgot
I forgot how to feel anything other than cold and dark
But I dug my way out, mama, I dug My Way out
And I thought I needed you, but then the air sank in, I realized something, mama
I never did.