I am exploring the inside. I find it desolate. I do implore these confines now as they penetrate, "recreate me." I'm hovering throughout time. I crumble in these days. I crumble, I cannot find reflection in these days. If you listen, listen close, beat-by-beat, you can hear when the heart stops. I saved the pieces when it broke and ground them all to dust. I am destroyed by the inside. I disassociate. I hope to destroy the outside. It will alleviate and elevate me. Like water flowing into lungs, I'm flowing through these days. As morphine tears through deadened veins I'm numbing in these days. I know what died that night. It could never be brought back to life once again, I know. I know I died that night and I'll never be brought back to life. Once again, I know. If you listen, listen close, beat-by-beat, you can hear when the heart stops. I saved the pieces when it broke and ground them all to dust.