Maybe you think I have a blind eye
That somehow you can hide
what you hold inside
But your vibe bleeds outside of the lines
Conveying everything you attempt to confine
The only solidarity your wall holds
is the transparency of your emotional threshold

Maybe you think I can’t see past
Your double mirrored glass
That the two of you move too fast
But your silence is so violent
Softly shouting the advent of your torment
Presenting everything you meant to circumvent
By building such an opaque tent

Maybe you think I haven’t been very far
But I’ve lived in a bell jar
Covered in scars
That roughly reads in sentences that repeat, “memoirs of o.u.r.s, fractured remnants of stars”

So when I **** my head
at how you whisper of being like an unwanted bag of luggage
Know that I’ve got shelves of garbage
that I cannot seem to cleave
That I have double mirrored glass
With scathing scribbled emotions
Burned into the retina of my eye
Making me anything but angelic
Making me mostly just hellish

And so, I ask you to look at your double mirrored glass
And I ask you to see whose staring back