My head is steady pounding; too many thoughts, they keep rebounding

Clawing at the door of my subconscious; begging, crying “don’t you want us?”

I have no intention of babysitting nonsense, but I hear them whispering, building up the suspense

Close my eyes and they use my lids as a backdrop, exploiting my imagination like it’s a prop

I can’t keep up with the growth of these seeds, my hands are sore from pulling up these weeds

I can’t starve what feeds off me and I can’t blind myself to things I can’t see

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