Switchblade Itch (Nordic Discord Challenge)

Mud-thick water, circling slow, Bottles bobbing, half-sunk ghosts. Mother said, "The banks will break," So I stepped on the rattling train— Yeah, the rattling train. Roots, roots, tangled in my ribs, Routes, routes, slipping through my grip. Every glass a shallow ditch, Every sip a switchblade itch— Pour the slow collapse, Let the flood come back. Ceiling fan’s a guillotine, Spinning slow, drunk on gasoline. Met a girl with hollow lungs, Dared me ‘til my tongue went numb— Yeah, my tongue went numb. Roots, roots, tangled in my ribs, Routes, routes, slipping through my grip. Every glass a shallow ditch, Every sip a switchblade itch— Pour the slow collapse, Let the flood come back. Foam hisses… "Stay awake," Jukebox croaks… "Nothing’s saved." Coins turn black… beer turns lead, I’m chewing through… the years ahead— Chewing through. Signs all bleached to hollow bones, Saints just drink to drown their moans. Every road’s a tilted floor— The bottle’s always at the door, Yeah, at the door. Roots, roots, tangled in my ribs, Routes, routes, slipping through my grip. Every glass a shallow ditch, Every sip a switchblade itch— Pour the slow collapse, Let the flood come back. Roots… routes… rust… rope… Roots… routes… rust… rope… Roots! Routes! Rust! Rope! …Just one more… to cut the throat.