rotting

screeching; she fills the air with

our suffering it's all there is to hear and I fear that

the very ground beneath is exploding the grass peeling away from a rotten core

I and 5 billion knives, planted in her flesh and nobody cares

we've lost the chance to fix it

I'll dance until it takes me too until I'm screaming my life unfolding

and it comes for me i'll say I cared I did, I do

but I am not 5 billion whos and I do not know how to stop you

there is no fix or bandages for 5 billion stab wounds