Condition

I touch the skin of the surface
It doesn’t falter
As if I was less than the air I take in
A tunnel of blankets
Made out of surplus
Flesh
I taste the rind of bitterness
That putrefies the hallow
I give in to supplementing whims
You see, this pool is after all shallow

No one can help me
it's far too late
No one offered anyway
strangle me
As I fall down that hole again
be my rope

My friend is velleity
it becomes a part of me
I don’t know how to react

I saunter past little notations
Growing less troubled
The headache is all in your mind
A promise is burden
No one can count
On stars
I’m nowhere closer
To finding a maker
I think it’s from tendencies to collapse
I left my wounds open, have I any takers?

No one can help me
it's far too great
Never noticed anyway
strangle me
As I fall down that hole again
be my rope
be my rope