They can see through the glass
Our lips are dripping blood
From telling all our lies
But people don’t understand,
Blood must flow for clarity
Before the water can become,
Clear.
I’m not sure what flows through my veins
Is it crimson?


When I crack open the glass
I don’t see color.
Only the stories our lies tell.
Wishing the red would dissolve in the water
But in the end,
We will all turn to ice.



Molly