Clear from Reaper Madness! by Take Weight

Days expire, shedding their bodies to decay. What doesn’t waste away I feel mandated, obliged to carry. Sour skin and tissue thicken in stench, curdling my face and focus from blessings and stressors to sirens and stretchers.

The remains I bear aren’t associated with instruction: no choice or forced is what I’d like to be able to say. Hey, but I’m starting to accept this shackle on my leg which strengthens bitterness and anger is my own stubborn brain.

It’s a cycle that sustains this state. To forget I must also learn to forgive YooooooOOOoooOOOoou.

"It seems that every time I get things started
I gotta put ‘em down to do the right thing
It happens each and every time, what a crooked design
over and over again."

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