a friend committed suicide today and i feel like i can relate it to him.
Hide the petals underneath that bedroom floorboard
and they will wither without fail or success. (if you keep something hidden away, it will never achieve its full potential.)
Put the people in the hollow box they crafted,
bolt the doors and watch them perish. (the old riddle: the person who makes it sells it. the one who buys it never uses it. the one who uses it never knows he's using it. what is it? a coffin.)
Its a cautious descent, so polite and pensive at first.
But the only truth is change, have patience
(every hundredth year, a single breath and then its over...)
Even if only for a minute for a minute its over.
Even if only for a minute. (the end of everything living)
So brave in the face of all those roots that ruin,
to stand so tall when in fact in ruins. (facing suicide)
To face that corner of the box and dive in, (going for it. the box, the coffin.)
just the sound alone of its humble breath.
A murmur from the ruins echoes softly as the roots undo, and the branch becomes... (the murmur of memories, the roots undo the chemicals that keep us living.)
a friend committed suicide today and i feel like i can relate it to him.
Hide the petals underneath that bedroom floorboard and they will wither without fail or success. (if you keep something hidden away, it will never achieve its full potential.) Put the people in the hollow box they crafted, bolt the doors and watch them perish. (the old riddle: the person who makes it sells it. the one who buys it never uses it. the one who uses it never knows he's using it. what is it? a coffin.)
Its a cautious descent, so polite and pensive at first. But the only truth is change, have patience (every hundredth year, a single breath and then its over...) Even if only for a minute for a minute its over. Even if only for a minute. (the end of everything living) So brave in the face of all those roots that ruin, to stand so tall when in fact in ruins. (facing suicide) To face that corner of the box and dive in, (going for it. the box, the coffin.) just the sound alone of its humble breath. A murmur from the ruins echoes softly as the roots undo, and the branch becomes... (the murmur of memories, the roots undo the chemicals that keep us living.)
oh god.