Picking at my own skin
But of course I can't win
I can't peel away the parts of me
When it's not a reality I’m seeing.
My own deception
The rules that fabricate
Personal rejection
Like I don’t want to love this face.
In my imagination
Joy can exist
Until the outside looks in
Like an evaporating mist
My peace begins to twist
And suddenly I’m judging
Every inch around my wrist.
I could break my own rules
I could force myself in tense recovery
But I fear that healing
Won't feel as good as peeling
Away at what could be okay.
I'm in love with the grip
I romanticize my crypt
Even while I’m wasting away
There's no more blood left to lay
At my own altar
I pray
But I’m wasting away