A Murder of Memories

Gasping for air, demons of old rest upon my chest.
Panic attacks happen often

Misleading temptations continue to rove.
The heart wants what the heart wants,
wish I listened from the start
Never looking forward to what’s to come next
Whatever tune the seasons sing,
it’ll never swing my hips to the groove

Gasping for air, demons of old rest upon my chest.
Panic attacks happen often

Crossed ankles and barren yards reap the stories untold.
As nights turn cold, my heart resumеs the mourning.
A melody too well-known around thеse parts.
Caffeinated cheeks whisper my hidden thoughts,
In hopes of waking their sleeping souls
Gold. Glitter and Gold.
All that glitters should be abolished for promoting false images.

Half the vision you take for granted
At times I blink and I see false images
Eliminate bad energy like water through a crevice
Meditation is the only saviour I seek

Gasping for air, don’t let demons of the future hold you down.
Panic attacks keep me awake at night

Battered and bruised, barely halfway through the week
Silent stares in the shiny displays of my younger self leave me weak

By all means necessary, don’t sleep on your dreams.
Please! Don’t be misled by the systems of control.
Take responsiblity of self