A crime was committed inside my head,
the killing of my connection with my source and fate.
And I am, as always, the usual suspect.
I have no clue if I am wrong, and my alibi is not that strong.
defenseless—I am prosecutor and judge.
Sentenced, I’m imprisoned for a long time
in a dark and messy space that is my mind.
There is no bail, appeal, or parole—
I must serve my time and atone for my sins.
Rehabilitated from my own being,
I will face my death, then I’ll be free.
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