different ways of decay

i think i'm rotting on the inside-

way down deep inside my soul.

i've built this little coffin that i live in everyday. i peek out

every day or so, to see those ghost at play. i've got my knife

right by my side. i keep it warm, i hold the blade.

i want to keep watch, keep hold- for when they come to take

my soul away. i've got this fear living inside me. it keeps me

crippled and cold. like a child i lie frozen.

i hope these arms won't reach out and take hold.

there's blood on my face, it keeps me warm at night...