I don't want to disappoint you.

Tunes in my head: E-Bow The Letter by R.E.M.
Atmosphere: Tired.


wipe my name from the papers
from the whiteboard inside
was i really there at all?
or was i bludgeoned behind the curtain?
the same old game played in circles
running around chasing each other
say the name that scares you the most
i recognise it as your own
as your own way


rip myself from all the corners
photos aren't that valuable now
spineless person sneers from behind
the same joke as funny as ever
i'm being devoured from within
the showers inside hiding sin
i just want to go far home
is the walk worth the eternity
the eternity to wait


you say there's no memory of me
even as i show the artifact
anything but me is what makes the smile
are those the rules to play?
where's my consolation?
for a life lived in the bunkers
the streets of manchester are not so warm
so jealous of the taste of youth


i'll give up my prize for a touch
for one last glance of the wounded
it's a ritual to part and turn
but what says it must be strict?
and now the bloody fist drips
onto the pages on the desk
rubbing the relief onto the paper
and the smear is erased


the pages torn from the diary
and scorched into smouldering flame
please i cannot take the punishment
i'm drained of all life remained
can't you see the things i am?
or is it gone with the last memory?
when the moments fade into lapse
do i become the invisible one?


i'm grasping for air beneath the stones
that bury me alive in this prison
can you keep me for a little while?
with your care and your thoughts
i may be crushed within
but a single grasp is all i need
to keep in your mind
and to let go to die