My ears bleed from the bullets
gone into others
That I see on a screen
either near me or with me at all hours
So I hide from the fun-house mirror of
society's flaws and hate amplified
letting the bitter slicing voice of one like me
strain to send itself amongst the waves of a chilling sea
I cannot swim
And revert to ink recounting
the horrors of her present
she is still too loud
Until all I can know is told from
a mouth who's lip quivers and teeth
grind
leaving my mind
to create Hell itself.
Even the pretty pictures can't fool me