I can’t find the strength to say that you’re gonna be okay. I don’t want to lie that way. Pencil shavings coat my teeth, but the lead inside tastes more like blood to me. There’s a knife inside of me, and it’s twisting ever so slowly, slowly it seems. So please, just let me know, what it is like to be ‘safely’ put to sleep.
Days become months, and I’ve never felt more alone. Just for one second I remember what it’s like for you to be home, but we have to save you from this pain. It cripples me to see your fragile heart in strain.
Cos I don’t wanna know that pain is your last memory.
Cos I don’t wanna know that pain is your memory.
Cos I don’t wanna know that pain is your last memory.
Who’s to say this is for the best, when the lines are blurred and the veins on my chest are swollen by the fear of death? Like the needles in your leg or the water in your lungs, I will be your last memory.
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