If my brain had its own set of lungs,
I'd scream how I felt at you.
But since my mouth is mute and my hands are tied,
I'd rather not try, or just keep it all to myself.
There are demons in my head,
Scratching on its walls,
Rounding corners,
Screaming, screeching through megaphones.
I want to destroy things,
Flip the world over,
And light the fires.
One for the road to Hell, to death, to destruction.
Too many feelings lie atop my broken home of a chest.
No words will come out,
Therefore, I cannot hurt you.
I just keep it all inside, breathing in my own insanity.
I know that the end seems kind of choppy. Believe me, I've worked on it. Any suggestions?
