It's so much harder than it seems, to change my mind
It's not like changing a tire, or changing a channel
Or it's exactly that, but the car doesn't change its own tires, my feet don't change their shoes
And it's not a channel I've subscribed to yet
I know things, and I know things and I know things,
But all the reading is only "if only"
Then I imagine forgiving and loving my self, and the chthonican worms gnash pierce tear
And their hatred is my hatred, and my teeth are their teeth
Ground down now, years of grinding in my sleep
Years of chewing myself down
To nothing