They tell me to write
But my heart is in my hands
With a seizing beat
There is nothing but frozen  time
Memories of distant days
When he filled my veins
And I tasted of summer honeysuckle
Wild berries and sweet sweat
But I've peeled my skin like an orange
And threw away the fruit
To leave nothing but rind
I've left myself to be a shell
An empty vessel in this life
Treading a desolate city
Of ghosts that know my past
Because we are the same
Our stories are fundamental tragedies of naive children
We've tattooed our necks
And bathed  in the salt
Of the choices we've made
And the lies that we keep
To live this world with our falsified beliefs
Our vanquished faiths
And blinded eyes