Corrupted Lungs
10 songs; 45 minutes, and 11 seconds
There’s a hiss in the distance, the slow escape of air into darkness. There’s a strange smell, a metallic taste at the back of my tongue. Seconds rush by to catch one another in the minutes that remain. The throat burns with the loss of everything, the chest heaves with the burden of breath.
A match strikes in the corner igniting the polluted air with spindling bolts of fire that spider in every direction to land in my burning lungs. The blood here is rare and sweet as cherry wine. The cause is lost to the blamelessness of time.
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