Rust from PICA by Jordan Esker & The Hundred Percent

In real life I get shut out, over time I gravitate to what I control.
No sins, no consequence, but sound and scenery,
and don’t worry they’re working on the feeling thing.

This dark warm cage. I’ll exist in a timeless place.
It’s the light I can live without for hours a day.

Leave me to rust. I’ll be the judge.
The screen’s dealing color sex; it doesn’t even compare.
It’s all I want. He/she’s just one.
Try it, I know you’ll say it blows it all away.

Go to the bathroom. Look who’s still here.
I’d rather be a floating head with appendages.
That’s always the message. My body’s a waste.
In a sea of ambitions, why should I ever lose my place?

The grieving stage is shorter than the acknowledgment phase.
It’s not a lie if I live it out in my own way.

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