Open wounds in the palms of my hands,
festering through infections time.
i feel so faint as my life spills over you.
backstep over glass as i repent.
i fear i can't prevent myself from spilling
your life all over me.

Im so sick, so sick of myself.
mother, say you'll pray for me.
i'm premature in my decay.

shards of glass swimming in my eyes.
a small voice in the back of my mind
thats whispering words i never want to hear.
i pray that you wont besitate,
as you watch me degenerate,
to reach in my wounds and extract all my fear.
my suffocation. asphyxiation.
ive been choking on my own blood.

im so sick, so sick of myself
mother, say you'll pray for me.