Palm to palm.

Please save me from myself. 

Open up your clashing chords. intertwine me into your progressions. Suck the ability out of my bones like you do so well. Burrow your message in my core and resonate in me eternally; leaving me tranquilized by the state you’ve left me in. 

Leave me in the dust with your rhythm. 

Wash me up on some shore line with your tempo. 

hang me over some star in space with your groove. 

Push me over a towering cliff with your lyrics. 

And then save me just as I’m about to make impact with the cold ground because of your melodic attributes. 

Heavy melody. I want a heavy melody. A melody weighed down with strength and empowerment. I want this piece to weigh me down and swallow me whole, so I don’t have to deal with the issue regarding the initial inspiration compelling me to achieve such a paralyzing sound. 

Please. save me from myself. 

Cardboard cannot patch my wounded mentality. 

It’s just a gateway into a deeply hated reality. 

A place where your heart races and your pulse chases to catch up with your thoughts- you think in phases. 

When one ends another will begin; a broken pile of thoughts together: My mind is just a bargain bin. 

Go ahead, pick out a thought. If I charge too much you can haggle if you want. 

If I don’t let down just take it, for free. All my good thoughts have been stolen from me. I unlocked my bargain bin- attempting not to hoard, and now all I’m left with is cheap cardboard. 

And I don’t feel any better, with a lack of good thoughts. It just makes me think harder, with the cardboard I’ve bought. 

I’m selling that too, just so you know. Through the currency of my thoughts, if you picked up that clue. 

I just want to go home. I’ll give you my whole bargain bin- if you can take me home. To where I belong.