Eleven hundred, warm.
Soaked in piss covered sheets.
Writhing from the urge to cut their throats while they sleep.
Mother, I'm panicking.
Don't send me away.
I know I'm not your fucking problem, but I tried to kill myself today.
I imagined her face as she found me nude. Dead.
The blackened out spaces that were smeared across my childhood have broken me down into revulsion.
Abandoned. Tormented. Things I just kept repressed in the furthest corners of me brought on convulsions.
Fucked in.
Pissed out.
Killed off.
I'm fucked from their neglect,
Still I beg for my mother.
I feel like a threat to myself and to others.
I lied to the doctors when they asked if I want to kill myself or anyone else.
At night it gets worse.
Nothing is helping.
We're all gonna die.
I feel myself ending.
Mother, it's dark down here.
I remember pale sunshine.
I felt it char my world the day I should have died.
And I should have fucking died.
Chicago deathcore outfit Into the Silo torch everything in sight on this searing new LP with riffs that will leave bruises. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 21, 2022