اگزیستانسیال

0:55 / there's a starving beast inside my chest, playing with me until he's bored. then, slowly burying his tusks in my flesh. crawling his way out, he rips open old wounds. when I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table, its blade reflects my determined face to plant it in my chest. and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins. hollow me out, I want to feel empty.

a face open, without shadow. I see the cracks forming beneath the skin. the inevitable fracture I couldn’t divine. an internal frost creeping over the landscape of what was. I built this lens, I painted this distortion, a slow poison. no moment escapes the laughter, now hollow the light, diffused through a perpetual haze, just decaying. and as I pull each fragment carving away the innocence, the very act of recalling is an act of destruction as I watch my memories burn.