I been there before.
Knocking on death's door.
Banging on the wood.
You wish you could.
Froget this now.
But wonder how.
I came back.
From the black.
From the darkness.
No breath.
No breathing.
I was heaving.
Squeezing.
The life from me.
Now maybe you'll see.
What I mean.
I'll come clean.
I had to be brought back.
I never truly thought of that.
The fact.
I could be dead.
I have this now in my head.
I was weak.
I'd not want me.
Maybe.
That's why dad left me.
And wasn't there.
He couldn't bare.
To have such a sick son.
This is why I wanna run.
So many memories.
I want to lose.
Even the ones that involve you.
-H
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