I feel a blackening in my chest, the disintegration is going down. It's come again, I have to stop this feeling, it must stop before it gets to my feet, you want to tear me apart, but you don't want to finish it. my food for you, a food game. I have to get down on my knees, I don't want that. The crisis demands it. I have to throw this look, it's unbearable for me, I'm invincible. Another hand comes out in the middle of my chest, I have to hold on to the ground, I will push myself out of the dor. my other hand is in crisis, the crisis has taken hold of it. i can't open it, i have yellow neck, i will break it, i will change my neck, i don't like it. I need to stop it before the red crisis hits it. I burn!
