My Mistake
The disease sits between the lines
They collide and make beautiful catastrophes
The hand would do anything to take the pain
Take it from the heart and give it away
Taking everything from the mind.
Consciousness, reasoning and the ability to think
Freedom is in the suppression of emotions
Sit back and feel the world. Feel the pain
It seems lost in the confusion
The chaotic banter numbs the senses, cancerous
Feeding on the heartache and breathing smoke
Deep and panic, not able to slow breathing
Choking on what used to be lungs
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