Cut.

The world keeps changing around me. 


Ripping apart all that I knew and replacing it with a horrific abstract replica.


I know something is wrong. I know I'm not in the right frame of mind.


Yet I can't quite put my finger on it.


Like a name stuck firmly to the tip off one's tongue.


I crave to suffer that realization to awake my mind and open my eyes. 


Dummy just keeps plunging me further into this infernal abyss of my eternal thought.


Wrapped within the chains of my own imagination.


I'm reaching for the lightswitch. Yearning to flip it and cast the light on within my brain, expelling the darkness into oblivion and releasing myself from this damning existence.


I'm clawing for the scissors.


I'm going to cut these strings.


But until then I'll just keep cutting throats.