It's more than music. It's breathing.

I speak through them, vicariously. Because they sing the words I cannot say. My voice is small, and gets lost with the wind.

Do you know the feeling, the one you can't forget? When a song ends, and you end along with it.

I do.

I know a know a lot of things. Things that mean nothing to anyone but me. And they know me better then I know myself.Or at least they pretend to, and I am no good at pretending.

Do you know how it feels? To be hung up in the back of the closet because you no longer appeal to anyone.

Do you know how it feels? To drive alone, and be lost in a town you've lived in your entire life. Because where is there if everywhere has become nowhere?

Do you know how hard it is? To see good, everywhere you go, and carry bad with you every step of the way.

Do you know how badly it hurts? To lose the power to breath.

You don't know, how it is to be me.


And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones.
Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.
Setting fire to our insides for fun.