powdered blood and reddened fingernails from tearing at the wounds trying to cut myself sane if the blood is flowing freely bitch then i think you ll lose control bitch then i think you d better find an exit now right now this mind is walking too fast away from its brain dry your eyes my sweetheart stretch your body out in the noon sunlight and dry yourself free of this tiresome water scattered to the winds drinking firsthand dew as i race by speaking to myself and no one maybe i should walk away from this bitch it s written on my body bitch i hope you feel the same the easy ways out have all been taken the only recourse for your newly industrialised husk is suffering martyrs aren t allowed here anymore i think i will acheive my freedom at the point of a gift and set myself upon the soil to dry for tomorrow s harvest