How do you ever heal in this life
if you never let the wounds stay closed?
How does your resolve fade away
if you never had a spine in the first place?
When lies and heartache are your currency
it doesn't matter what your intent is or was.
I have whittled away every visage of your countenance
only to be tortured by inescapable thoughts of madness.
You were a weapon of choice I could not stand against.
All my powers of deduction rendered ineffectual.
An army of spirit warriors by my side could not save me.
Shattered confidence on the shores of self-discovery.
Alone in a sea of desperate narcissists and mental invalids
I just want to breathe the soft air of kindness again.
Feel the lasting embrace of someone dear.
Someone to rebuild the wreckage with and reclaim the chi.
I want to smile on the outside and be more than a mannequin.
Shallow footsteps echo the coldness of a reality I snap back to.
My face is ever the convenient liar, apologizing for
the many fallacies I perpetuate just to stay alive.
Is this the meaning of life or a life worth wasting?
Do I hit bottom with a grin or rise once more?
To ask the question is as damaging as anything I must endure.
I'll never know as long as the screaming in my ears
drowns out all reason, passion and peace.
if you never let the wounds stay closed?
How does your resolve fade away
if you never had a spine in the first place?
When lies and heartache are your currency
it doesn't matter what your intent is or was.
I have whittled away every visage of your countenance
only to be tortured by inescapable thoughts of madness.
You were a weapon of choice I could not stand against.
All my powers of deduction rendered ineffectual.
An army of spirit warriors by my side could not save me.
Shattered confidence on the shores of self-discovery.
Alone in a sea of desperate narcissists and mental invalids
I just want to breathe the soft air of kindness again.
Feel the lasting embrace of someone dear.
Someone to rebuild the wreckage with and reclaim the chi.
I want to smile on the outside and be more than a mannequin.
Shallow footsteps echo the coldness of a reality I snap back to.
My face is ever the convenient liar, apologizing for
the many fallacies I perpetuate just to stay alive.
Is this the meaning of life or a life worth wasting?
Do I hit bottom with a grin or rise once more?
To ask the question is as damaging as anything I must endure.
I'll never know as long as the screaming in my ears
drowns out all reason, passion and peace.
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| It wouldn't be so bad if I could just scratch my nose... |
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