A prisoner to the person I used to be and a prisoner of my own mind.
Got a table down in my basement with a soul that used to be mine.
Taken apart too many times to remember how to reapply it.
I tell you to leave me alone, but I need you more than ever.
Don’t know what to say but need to hear your steady mind.
It is hard to explain the voices in my head.
Could you save my thoughts?
It is a puzzle in the hurricane, and I am locked in the attic.
The key to the basement has been burned into paper.
I tried to tell you honestly, but I cannot even write it down straight.
Got to use these riddles to tell you what has happened.
I could already be dead, or I could be a ghost.
Could you save my heart?
It is quite the opposite of what you would think.
It is not numbness but the feature of feeling far too much.
Sensations of sensitivity building a rough defense.
Villains are the ones who want the sun more than the rest of us.
Fantasizing a different reality so that I never fall away.
Using this reality to save myself.
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