Each and every profanity I faced since 11 cemented my plan to be free and play off the beaten track until I was found
Sirens and all
Chasing me the attention of the red spotlight planted on my chest something i hung onto
through glitter and gold still managing to shoot right through the heart
The death of my love a well renowned act critically reviewed by those most willing to pay to see it
Stalls of meaningless crossovers the only interaction I ever had without being prosecuted by the tint of rose they heard in my tone
An all revealing factor I attempted to hide for so long in a glass safe
Impenetrable only was the top scarred by fingerprints grasping desperately for arteries going straight to the placebo of metal ventricles
Enough to keep them busy so that I can escape
However I search for validation a sedative for my art to prevent and outburst of madness so long overdue by the confinement of society and what they should let me do their eyes transfixed on the individuality of my act rather then the truth
So beautiful yet tragic, the blood still gushing through arteries about to burst in the desperation for love and the search for self worth