this head of mine
I can’t keep up with this head of mine
That stockpiles sorrow in the back of my skull
That roasts my eyes until they’re charred, black, and dull
A rotting, festering brain like this
That sinks my consciousness into nausea and nothingness
I can’t keep up with this head of mine
That resigns my ears to vengeful hissing, spitting, and ringing
That poisons, panics my lungs, each breath wet and stinging
A rotting, festering brain like this
That furrows my body with acidic erosion, a sinewy apocalypse

I can’t keep up with this head of mine
That blankets rank sludge and wet rubbish wall-to-wall in my gut
That laces grit and grime through my mouth, wiring my bloody gums shut
A rotting, festering brain like this
That pollutes, electrocutes, and carves angry grins into my wrists
I can’t keep up with this head of mine
That pummels my heart into a mishmash of innards and debris
That grips and rips my shoulders until it shakes my soul free
A rotting, festering brain like this
Isn’t worth saving, or loving, just flood this fucking cranial abyss
I can’t keep up with this head of mine
That’s broken and gnarled and sick all the time
And I can’t help but wonder if it’s really bipolar that’s rotting my brain
Or I’m just a terrible, burdensome being that’s actually quite sane
I want to turn off my thoughts and cry until there’s nothing left to say
And lie down in the sewer and watch myself ruthlessly decay.
I can’t keep up with this.
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