*Inspired by Linkin Park music videos and a few half-remembered daydreams*
Reputation rusted, buried in a grave of frozen earth,
A funeral-wreath of withered lillies entagled in a tarnished cage,
The cage my "free-spirit" has been imprisoned in, waiting to rot.
I don't know why you ask, if you didn't want to know,
We are all aware of these scars so why pretend to care???
I am choosing which elements of myself that I should kill off
So that I am no longer a disappointment to you,
So I may shape myself in your form, you may live your life again through mine.
I will not be the messed-up girl that was only a mistake.
Why do the things I want to say only work in written form?
If I could only tell you where these 34 scars came from, before they healed.
You ask but I can never give you the truth you deserve, all I know is lies.
Blood, welling black-crimson from this cut,
I won't be there to hear "how did you get it?" I won't be there to lie.
35th and final scar, bleed out the last of this liar's curse,
Locked away in hell to face my demons, to be devoured by their flames.