What does it take to get away?
My mind is always on the edge.
Am I a remnant from the past
clinging on to what was lost?
It's embracing the end
and not escaping the nightmare.
I've got a right mind to remain myself
but the figures are shifting cells.
I taste the sickness on my tongue
I feel the smoke climbing down my lungs
I hear the cancer breach the skin
and my teeth are wearing thin.
I hear the five shapes scream and shout
grab a scalpel and cut them out.