Pyromaniac In My Chest

Photo by Natasha Tiamaria-Kimberley Richardson

No one warned me before I jumped head first into the deep end

That dying inside for one chance to get free is a pretty high value to spend.

But I did it to escape, one way or another, from the bullies in my skull,

From the pyromaniac in my chest, from the pills that make me dull.

I flew off the roofs of reason and dropped faster than a rock towards the unknown.

Who knew that having it all meant being deprived of everything, except the throne?

Looking back I can now admit that being insensitive has its benefits.

Ice so cold in my eyes, there’s nothing reflecting, no hope, just blitz.

Violence comes easy when you don’t feel in debt of compassion anymore –

Baby, are you ready to quit or do you want to take a hit once more?

-JW