Deserters
the plunge
I am a: prisoner of my imagination, trapped, tortured and going mad. Lost
all sense of direction, when I lost all that I had. Moving onward and
upward, the race to fade to black. Iâve found a way out of here and Iâm
never coming back. Fuck the world⦠take my life back. Fuck the world⦠the
race to fade to black. Throw myself from the highest rooftop, face up, to
perpetuate my fall from grace. Sunlight slipping through my fingertips. My
soul and body rot in the same place. 602-52-8353 is all I will ever be.
Nine numbers: identifiable only by blood on the concrete and a crooked set
of teeth. Take me back. Death is what Iâm after. Iâm not afraid anymore.
Can you hear my laughter?
Fuck the world.
My soul and body rot in the same place.