your words stick to me like wax
it leaves an icky feeling
like milk turned solid on my tongue
I can't speak I cant speak I cant speak
I'm thinking of things I could have said but the cat's got my tongue
now picture my mental state as a white marble bathtub,
water dripping from the golden colored faucet
now you enter the bathtub, dripping blood rub
rubbing the blood on my clean marble bathtub
the white tub is now in need of a scrub
you have messied up my bathtub.
the sins of your day rinse off your naked body, and into the water, turning brown
do you see what you have done now?

Although my thoughts are scattered,
Bruised, beaten bare,
Clouded, messied, and
Dilluted,
Each one has weight, as they always did.
Filling the room with
Great wonder, and fire burning
Higher than ever before.
Identity is something I have yet to find.