Airplane Mode

​Set my phone on airplane mode

Though I’m not on an airplane

I don’t want pretenses anymore

So I cut all ties and walk away

Being left alone

I can think of all

all that’s gone wrong

and all that could be

after I’m gone

I can think of the ways

fast or slow

in silence or with a show

so there will be no tomorrow

Nothing matters no more

The air in my room tastes like rotten corpse

When they find my body it’s all too late

My phone is down on the floor

Still on airplane mode

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