it’s alright, not too much damage tonight.
But,you lost control, didn’t you?
you lost it and almost drowned yourself
in that fake smile,
(I’m fine! Really! They’re just cat scratches, I swear!)
(I was just itchy; long, sharp nails y’know?)
But they didn’t believe you, did they?
Who did they call this time?
Was it your mum,
or maybe the therapist?
Oh! Did they finally hear your bunny rabbit voice talking about
how all the faces chase you in your dreams,
and that they’re by your bedside
when you’re finally brave enough to open your eyes?
(I bet they called in a psychiatrist.)
You’re a fuck up,
with a prescription of doubt;
(Just what the doctor ordered for you distorted reality, maybe take another dose for the beacon that still fails to light that bitter soul)
they’re dragging you down,their voices screeching in your ear-
LOOK. Look in the goddamn mirror-
whose face do you see?
Is it yours?
Tell, do you even know yourself anymore?
I think, you’re too feral to notice they’re drugging you with your own sorrows,
they’ll bury you in the morning,
Larks, singing your demise.
But you wanted nightingales didn’t you?
Do you even know?
Is there anything that can bring you back home?
To the lights, the songs, that unending hope?
Poor little demon,
with your poor demon role,
You just don’t have any way to cope-
Or do you?