I try to revise these words in a way

that you can understand the infestation

in my minds imagination.

But, no matter what mutation

I give these words.

You'll never understand my minds configuration.

Behind my eyelids

are islands of violence.

I'm suspended in a timeless test

being tested by a ruthless examiner

that's best represented by my

depressing thoughts.

To me everyones just writing to say nothing,

speaking to say something,

and I feel like I'm the only that's not rushing to say nothing.

Everyone's dissapointed in my decision,

saying that I gave up on my dream.

Only they don't understand

I've got a really messy mind to clean.

This isn't some sort of roast or chop,

just a suttle attempt to make the voices stop.