Your Arms Are My Cocoon
13 days without mail (pre-yaamc demo)

I wish that i could be another person
My tongue is fucking poisoned with everything that i have ever said and done
And everybody knows it
I haven't left my house in like a week and i fall asleep
We fade to black
Oleanders are sprouting from my fingertips
I think i just might taste them

You keep away like i'm some sort of disease beyond sleep