There are tiny imperfections scratched into the sky tonight,
spelling out an accurate description of me
Time paints grooves onto my skin,
I am like a tree
You can count the lines I've accumulated to guess my age
Only I'm sure that time would fib and say that I'm much older


I've already died once or twice, tonight
Perhaps the next try, I'll finally get it right
And as for the hope inside my heart;
well, it's dying too
Only cracks inside my throat can leak my secrets
And I keep trying to seal them up with concrete, tar, and glue

My eyes feel like they've been victims of arson
The flames that flicker wildly behind them are quickly growing out of control
I've put my cigarettes out against my corneas too many times,
and the ashes have been sticking beneath my eyelids,
causing me to go temporarily blind

The words I dream in aren't even words
I think they're just sounds
Or feelings
Or they might just be nothing
I'm not sure how to tell,
I'm not even entirely sure I'm awake, right now