i look back and it flashes over - taking me down in its undertow. similar to anti-gravity, i'm drifting away from earth. how long in this undertow
can i last
and it's been almost a year since i gave up, didn't look back. actually withdrew myself from plenty, and i could consume more. endure it all much better, and learn more.
i took the guts right out of it and sent it to the coroner, and i'll stand by when they slap you on the table. they'll cut you open like sunday dinner, but they won't be expecting what i already knew. you survived with insides that curdled, so sour. it amazing you lasted with that putrid stink. and to think you grimaced at passerby's when they twisted their faces. you swelled with anger when you knew it was was all misconceptions (how you believed to be looked upon - once described as "completely bloated in an ignorant figment of how [you're] viewed), your brand had cascaded. you cried behind the shed in your backyard while your parents watched out the kitchen window. they were hesitant to come to your side, you constantly pushed away those invested in you.
so it was no surprise when they tell me it's mostly empty, you were running on ashes and all that was there is black, i'll share a laugh with your ghost right after i remind the coroner to take care of the remains. and it's funny because when you were still here i told myself you lost your dignity. now i find myself defending it, and excusing it for the past.
