I carefully picked out only the diseases that have no cure
So everyone’s pity lasts a bit longer
And I can guilt them into pulling the plug faster
Convince them to finally give up on me                
I want to come to my funeral
I want to hear them curse at me, for the therapy bills they’ll have to pay
Because they never lied when they said I was important
Important enough that experts had to cure them of my (passed on) disease
Scared of the guilt that maybe my future would be nice
But I am impatient
I want of nothing
I wish to go back to the nothingness
The dirt
Maybe I’d fit in better there