it's just a phase..
this face that i must fake..
yes, the cake is a lie..
that only you and i recognize.

i am a scar..
though i ask of you, look hard..
for the compartments left departed
are only vacancies of an exhausted heart.

i have issues deep in tissues..
ink stains in the pink flesh I've misused.
a subtle twitch in this left eyelid..
reminiscent of where I've been.

my aim, to wipe a slate clean,
and further, to electrify like lightning,
hydrates a sane mindscape..
that I've made my end game.

so please, go easy on me.
i needn't reload those leavened loaves.
I'll leave it be 'till kingdom come.
just watch and you'll see, I'll overcome.

just dare me to go barreling
into life like a stunt man's staircase.
I'll take the risks even if it means splints
as long as it benefits those around me.