I don’t know much about this
This fevered chasing
Aside from the lump in my stomach
And my struggling lungs.
We come here to wrestle with our own hearts,
To throw ourselves on the floor,
To break our teeth and bruise our eyes;
We come here to die.
And when the lights turn off,
And the air ceases to rush,
Where will I be but locked inside
Another condemned moment?
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