A scar remains,
a reminder of the past.
A scar is what you make of it.


A reminder of misery?
A certificate of achievement.
A scar is what you make of it.


A constant sign of what’s been done.
A battlescar of battles won.
A scar is what you make of it.

******* for thinking it's okay. You're self-righteous and you never really had a right, she doesn't owe you anything. Except some time. You'll end up watching how it crawls up your spine much too quickly; infects the days and spoils the hours. Rotten like every kid with a present bigger than yours. She'll call your words too lyrical, you're a hopeless romantic she'll have you know.
You'll spit romance up in bloodfroth and it'll gush from the wounds you placed here yourself. You just wanted a battlescar, now your skin feels rubber from all the healing. You used to be beautiful too you know? That was before their time. When the landscape was godless and your mind less of a dump. Infected and spoiled; it's rotten now, like every kid with a present bigger than you'll ever have.

Every night/
You tell yourself "tomorrow"/
But wake up feeling tired/
Missing yesterday/

Can't get out of bed/
Cold is misery/
Freeze all motor functions/
Winter in my bones/

Windburn on my face/
Westworld foxhole/
Questioning the nature of/
My reality TV/

Not putting on a show/
Hate me for who I truly am/
Rather be loved by none/
Than not myselves/

We are not one/
Even I am not one/
But everyone has a choice/
Don't force me to make a bad one/

Unfocused/
Ramadaan broken/
Fallen through the thin ice/
Can't find an opening/

Mind running wildfire/
Body cryogenically frozen/
Time slows down/
Out of kitchen sync/

Wrapped in plastic, but/
The spillage was of biblical proportions/
Distorted icewaterworld typhoon/
The sky is falling/

Frostbitten snowball/
Lost within the avalanche/
You avant-garde a clue about.../
My Battlescar Galactica./