Chip

That guy points at me,
so can I thrust the point of my knife through him?
I don't get it at all!
I wonder to what extent the patched-up and joined-together "me" is actually me.
Is this cut off skin breathing?
I inhale this scattered fog of thought
and the cut up wreckage still continues to breathe...
They've decided so since ancient times, psychos can just go die-
I don't get it at all!
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You and Me. Just two of us
Our future is dark. Where shall we go?
My soul is overwhelmed by sorrow and it's killing me
Echoes of crying are over the whole starry sky
あぁあぁあぁあ あぁあぁああぁ



I write stuff...but yk stuff happens sorry peeps