I have a broken voice and midnight wounds
And I am my own prisoner
The wounds don't show with your eyes on me
My skin will scream, so look away
They're inside me, lurking behind my face
Toying with strings of sanity
And when the sun comes up, they are lost
Fading to an eerie blank
But the dark steals them back like a criminal
And rips apart the healing holes
Still, the dark is good, the dark is quiet
I'm alone with phantom gashes
The sun is stolen and so is my voice
I only stare at bare stone walls
And I will wreathe my hands around my head
And pull myself to the floor
I will sit down and I will accept
That when the darkness falls, I fall with it