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هرکس بدون حضور دیگری / t.me/loyrex

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before leaving you complete, no surprise, with one kiss, one caress.

so i'm leaving you tonight. it's not fun here anymore, i'll be joining the parade of the ghosts who came before.

prep the surface, bound my limbs. place the chair, beneath the rail. on the outside, just skin and bones. show me, what's left?

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how can't you see this is the end? let's face the truth, it's obvious. a different morning, the same charade. tell me, what's left? it's all an illusion.

You see, that's my why: the art of wanting, when in fact, i'm afraid and may even run away from it.

tell me, how can i have you when i don't even have myself?

tell me, how can i keep you when i can't bear with myself in the first place?

my mind is too far for you, and just the idea of my existence disgusts me.

it was never meant to be fun to be out here in this wild, cruel world we share.

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created in the image of suffering. created in the image of suffering. created in the image of suffering. created in the image of suffering.

4:13 you call it like the manna machine, but i am suffering.

who do you think you are? you and all your suffering?

i'm suffering, we're all suffering. i really really want it to end.

calling all your heavy laden, graceless, all suffering. calling all you heavy laden, faceless, manna machine.

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am i created in the image of my "Father God"? am i created in an image? what i had, i lost. am i created in an image what i want to see? i am created in the image of suffering. i'm suffering.

just for once, come to me. i look for thee night and day.

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