Head Wound City
old age takes too long
I give good headaches
Iâm made of mistakes
A disease named after me
Haunts the adjustment fakes
Iâm just a thing
A dull shape, a cliché
A figure of speech
Taught to forget in full swing
The scavenger feeds
Circling dead memories
Iâm told to mend my own heart
Iâve tossed out every piece