Peel it off
One by one
By every single thread
So every single strand
Is unwoven by a broken hand
And reveal to us
What you've done.
Were you scared?
Were you scarred?
Beaten and mashed in and marred
by the wasteland in which we breathe?
I don't know which came first:
the euphoria of absolute power
or the fear of it.
Regardless,
we are here.
in the wasteland.
And the worst thing you can do-
the only crime you can commit-
is to stop peeling layers.
and stop wondering why we are
where we are.

All these lemons
But my lemonade stil tastes like ****

Crimson drops on the twin box spring,
My loved ones disgraced in the opening of veins.
I am happy to be alive, lucky to be breathing.
Why, then, do I feel unworthy of this second chance?

Twitching hands and fleeting feet.
Her voice like honey she whispers to me.
I can only wonder if she knows how it feels.
Does she know that it stings?
A tainted adaptation and a hearing that rings.
It gets louder and louder as I push her away.
The beast grows stronger day after day.
All alone, I weep for myself.
I forgot who I am and I won't accept help.
I can only tremble in my apologetic daze.
Friends without faces speaking words that don't faze.

You are going to be mad at me
When I leave.
I won't even pack my bags
When I leave
Find a dark room, and disappear
Into my wildest nightmares.
You are going to be mad at me
When I leave