If I should be melted down
You shall forever be what cools me.
If I should ever be completely mutilated
you are what mends me.
throughout the amount of time that I've pieced myself together
tore myself down,
then back up
around, through the loops, under the bridges,
I've grown tired of trying to figure out where I go.
I want you to tell me.
I, flimsy wax, will mold as you wish,
I, roadkill, will be the source of necromancy,
if you shall wish it.
I'm tired of faking as if I know what I am,
I KNOW NOTHING
except.
that I want to be as you want me to be.
So if I were to be bloodied and bruised
I'll allow you to be the reason, or if you'd rather
you can be justice.
If I should be sad,
you will always be my smile.
because I constantly make this
choice, apparently,
of loving you.

I am afraid
(Of the future I’ve made)
For the boy
(Treating his body like a toy)
Who will slowly remove his shirt
(Unable to find the shadows in which he lurks)
And show her his scars
(That scatter across his whole being like stars)
His aches and pains
(The results of what drives him insane)
Bumps and rough patches
(From stabs and all of the scratches)
Marks she will look at
(While he is poised in preparation for attack)
The words he waits for
(What is wrong with you?!
What caused you to mutilate and gore?!)
The aching silence
(Leaving him to regret his self violence)
But maybe
(Because the future can’t be completely seen)
Maybe she won’t be afraid or hate the scars
(Because his body truly is marred)
Maybe she’ll tell him that she doesn’t mind
(Something i doubt, but is still possible to find)
That his scars are not something he should hide
(Terrifying, id just assume it was a lie)
That she wants to know the story behind every one
(Even though there are piles of marks, no, tons)
And she will take her hand and trace
(While he stands still, less afraid)
Every line, every dot
Every mutilation, every spot.
(While he’s waiting for the catch, the lesson he’s always been taught)
And she just stays there, looking at but not cursing him and his scars
And he thinks “maybe i can be loved, though I’m marred”