I could sleep this life away and still be tired of it. Fucking numb, fucking blind. Absent is more than just a state of mind. Reeling towards the same dead-ends. Uselessly whispering what should have been screamed. My lungs should bleed. A need to desire nothing. I desire to need anything. You can dampen a feeling, but it will never die. You just lose that part of your mind. And there's no such thing as crazy, just a lot of people broken too many times. There's only one I in rejection, but let's pretend we're both burning bridges before we get to them. All it takes is a spark from this flicking flame. Yeah, there's no such thing as crazy, but sometimes I swear I am. I kill beautiful things just to watch them die. There are two types of people in this life: remainders and those divisible by.