She was dressed in the sins that matched mine,
She exuded imperfections as she walked
and her eyes bore the scars
Of seeing through a screen
In a life spent a life spent half-mad
She made me feel okay to be flawed
I no longer looked in the mirror
And felt like I was chewing on the glass
Swallowing whole the shattered shards
To hemorrhage what was left of my self-esteem
Yet, now that she's gone away..
I'm tearing at my skin again
Abrasing my blemishes,
My specks, and my spots
Re-opening old scars
Astonished by imaginary disfigurements.
Now I sit here, look in the mirror,
Blood is running down to the sink,
I'm chewing on glass again.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 8:27 AM UTC
She was dressed in the sins that matched mine,
She exuded imperfections as she walked
and her eyes bore the scars
Of seeing through a screen
In a life spent a life spent half-mad
She made me feel okay to be flawed
I no longer looked in the mirror
And felt like I was chewing on the glass
Swallowing whole the shattered shards
To hemorrhage what was left of my self-esteem
Yet, now that she's gone away..
I'm tearing at my skin again
Abrasing my blemishes,
My specks, and my spots
Re-opening old scars
Astonished by imaginary disfigurements.
Now I sit here, look in the mirror,
Blood is running down to the sink,
I'm chewing on glass again.
Yeah..
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