please don't put me in the position where i have to push myself away...i want everything to become so mechanical.  i love the taste of rust.  and as my tears fall to the cold earth,  i am set free.  i can't touch the sky but i can pretend. i can't eat the world, but i can find yr center and swallow that just as quickly as the sky could fall.  i feel alive when you hold me, i feel alive when you touch me, i feel alive when you kiss me.  now i'm just dead.  breath starts again...in out in out in out....rising up in me.  growing inside until it has no more room and grows upwards, outwards, like a dream, a philosophy.  the pieces are kept warm inside, but when removed from the ground they fall apart like brittle dead leaves.  all i have is this feeling to keep me alive.  all i have is this hope to keep me from falling.  so my wrists break, my hands crack and become almost inhuman.  black inside, dead inside, falling apart without you inside me.