neck
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I feel so sick
I'm floating in the air
My feet is walking all over me
My head wants to explode
My hands are in the air
I'm drowning in despair
My soul is moving fast
A brush of his plumps makes thy drown in thought.
Savoring sweets off thy flesh though aren't dame.
Melting in cold hands one's soul does not rot.
Embracing, peering at movement in frame.
Suffocation, suffocation
Why must you be?
Must you be so vast
and prevent me from seeing?
Tight grips on my neck
Back against the wall
What will I do?
