ur sleeping on the couch

mask on fk it mask off

if music be the food of love-

for gods sake write your own lyrics. i am laying in a crisp hospital bed coughing out unoriginality and stolen heartbreak, the fever running through my blood reeks of unsigned letters and tears brewed by a jealous hand.

the second hand pain you're passing off as your own is sobbing a name that isn't yours, and somewhere out there remains a numb shell of a human being wondering who's stolen their emotions. do you know what it is to be stolen from? to have someone rip open your thorax and take what isn't theirs? pass off this misfortune as yours, shriek a tragedy you've never encountered.