When you trip and fall on a blade that goes through your eyes and skull.

Then you finally make out it was an icicle.

Break your ribs on an already broken bicycle.

Pour me another glass or I will.

Give you a tour to the part of your ass you’ve never seen before.

Because now you’ve awoken and you can see your head was so far up your ass you started to see what’s been waiting, a broken bicycle.

One two three parted away finally from the me I was so stupid to never see that it’s not who I should be.

Four five six have you ever seen the broken bicycle that made me?

Relaid me to make the fade flee.

Trade me for a better me to persuade signs of glee.

Paid me to use the blade on me.

I’m fighting myself, the monster within he.

I just called me he?

I’m appalled upon the thought of ever being free.

It’s my own fault, I should never have played with a broken bicycle unless I wanted to bite the blade.

I have every right to remain violent.

I have every right to stay silent.

I need to kill him.

I need to kill me.

A self sacrifice no one will care for. But hey, that’s me.