| Smoke screen distraction
|
| That hides the fire below
|
| An open chest that reflects a truth that was once untold
|
| My insides caught in a wildfire
|
| Unfolded by the strike of a match I continue to hold
|
| The repetition
|
| The consistency
|
| Just as the clock will once again strike 3
|
| Clockwork
|
| Self inflicted as if by expectation
|
| Told by the lies that split my tongue
|
| Ripping and tearing to separate truth from false intentions
|
| Cracked pseudo smile indication of a weary road more/less traveled
|
| The guidance you had given to me
|
| Tell a story that changes like the sea
|
| Inconsistently consistent on the issue of; |
| me
|
| Overbearing expectation unraveled your bones that I put back in their place
|
| I was undeserving but the gavel fell
|
| Ripped from my chest, my soul was sent to its own personal hell
|
| I sat up and the only conclusion that was clear
|
| Was a sense of desperation
|
| A sense to disappear
|
| I believed every skittish lie that was shoved down my throat
|
| Forced fed betrayal
|
| Told to chew and swallow
|
| Pride
|
| Whether it was age or regret
|
| That false sense of safety
|
| I emerged alone with fresh walls and broken
|
| To lead my life as a ghost that is only comfortable when secluded at night
|
| Your manipulative tendencies
|
| Masked as inexperience and nonexistent self worth
|
| Killed and buried some of the best parts of me in a shallow grave beneath the
|
| dirt |