Besedila: Tiltwheel. Battle Hymns For Recluse Youth. Crawl.

piece together particle by particle smash at everything complete arrange in sequence so some semblence can be reached distorted dreams of dying in my sleep what i'm wearing now is stained the words i'm thinking cause me pain away from you crawl inside my brain to find out where the stains are hiding pliers vice grips paper clips to pick out all the dying take my fist and smash the wall to deaden all the pain doubting every movre i make it's driving me insane break the bottle shards of glass that stab into my skin will it end the pain or is it happening again?