“The energy doesn’t feed the way it used to
There are no chords
No poems
No pictures or films
That can distill you
That can ever capture your essence
I’m still feeding myself lies
Broken every time a half-imagined dream
A fragment of a shadow that never was
Stalks me through the alleys of my mind
Late at night, with the receding lights
I hear you whisper poison into my skin
I’ve begged for your words
I’ve begged for your ear
I’ve begged for my friend
All this has been ignored
You have been my noose”
~ ‘Bug’ by keoghan.