I've been staying awake making basic unicorn shapes masqueraded as a staple of what people should create.
You're no positive thing. Cycle through, find what's missing. Snap a gasket. Go ballistic. I was just trying to pay a visit.

There's this cricket that I see every time I try to be anything besides this heap and it alarms me.
Then the blast doors close, implode, and hold in the fire, slo-mo, and i'm none the wiser just caught up in my own tired mind games.

It's a moving thing with such big eyes.
Cryptic, misguided. Who can survive when the Earth splits in half and gives birth to a better place.

I've been staying in shape by hating to the point of break sweat, by self-indulging every chance i get. Muscle weighs more than regret.
There's a lot of things that I should do but I tend to spend my time thinking of you when I should be thinking about me and my needs and my feelings.

I've been holding a grudge for years. I haven't ever budged, not once. I'm collecting bugs at the risk of never being loved by someone pretty with a purpose because I haven't earned it. I deserve to be deserted incase you haven't heard.

I'm not a martyr, i'm not that important.
How bout a barter? I'll trade blood for your rewards.
This is the sequel and we all know how that works out.
It wasn't equal but it's too late to change that now.