My Spider Web Hallow
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So we're falling to the bottom of this maze
The maze of myself, of my crimes, of my faults.
So we're traveling deeper into the caverns of my artificiality.
Someone needs to tell me to get a life,
Just so I can defy them.
Because I'm an urn for lives surreal, and
I'm the pages for lives unreal, and
My life is embedded somewhere far off and in-between,
Broken up within the binding, and
Littering sheets with bed crumbs, and
Fallen amidst the space between found and stolen.
Someone needs to rip me away from this universe of mine,
Just so I can know if I'm really stuck,
Beneath the staple paneling of sheetrock cages, and
Crying for everything I can't feel, and
Pretending that it's me who's bleeding still.
Breathing seems light-years away yet it's every second of every day, and
Believing is a fictional remnant of what I've heard before, and
Existing is a malnourishment of what it takes to live, and
It's not worth plotting over anymore, but
I do it anyway.
So to know me through scripture, with
Whatever criss-crossed assumptions and gratifications, and
At the bottom of my spider web hallow I'm still myself,
Far too deeply than I even want and you must see, that
Everything that's real I don't really want you to see.