So Much Of Adolescence Is An Ill-defined

By Daily Dying, I Have Come To Be.

I Always Felt Mean, Jogging Back Over The Logging Road,as If I Had Broken The Natural Order Of Things In That Swampland;disturbed Some Rhythm, Old And Of Vast Importance,by Pulling Off Flesh From The Living Planet;as If I Had Committed, Against The Whole Scheme Of Life, A Desecration.

The Self Says, I Am; The Heart Says, I Am Less; The Spirit Says, You Are Nothing.

The Visible Exhausts Me. I Am Dissolved In Shadow.

Pain Wanders Through My Bones Like A Lost Fire