Self-shamed, tonight I drink from a glass labelled ‘inadequacy’
And I’m trying to beautify your face, but discomfort runs its course.
These walls peel apart;
I’m skipping through minefields. 
Perception’s frames cut me, so I remain a presentable lie,
These stars nick my arms, 
My heart skips a beat, as I realise I’ve lost all trustworthiness
I can’t remember what it’s like to feel Love.
The stained plains, spewing from between my fingers, are the remnants of a murder plot.
The letters, blurred, break my bones…
Facing me. Facing me.
The only way I’ll elope with the sham of success, is if I feed my heart to the snakes,
So it all comes down to the knife, the glorious knife of mediocrity.
Living forever in a desanctified anthem. Discoloured, understated teeth, remain filthy from the lies. For I believe every word I say.
Every single foggy truth. 
Remembrance, but save for unpreparedness, and the cuts don’t seem deep anymore.
Emptiness stalks us tonight, 
Silence cuts like a bloody axe, and still, there are trenches in my skin

RATE THIS CHAPTER!