Pretty bare rib cage
Rabid butterflies pick
At flesh in rage.

My fire is out
The steamy shower burns
My hands they bleed
And blister red.

Stoic smile
Bloodshot eyes
Words slip past my lips as lies.

But I believe...
Oh yes the stories.
Tainted doves fly free, impurities.
You know it's a problem when all you have left is these tainted doves.

The bear comes, mauls
You, eats your innards
Tearing you inside

And out. Until you forget
All the negatives and wish
You could get back to
How things were,
Your mind festers in the pain.