Nothing is real. I knew when I looked my mother in the face I kicked, l begged. I fought just to stay out of my way But I drown beneath the absence. Clawing at my skin, I struggle to say Everything's manipulating itself to Be a shape that won't fit the space But you Parasite Bleed me dry until you feel you are Fed, until nothing worth saving is left. Then I can try to tell myself there's a Purpose in opening my eyes for a moment again. Pray that tomorrow brings change, or that it ceases to exist. If I'm afraid of everything, will nothingness be bliss? Help me.