Cries of Pain.

Full of blame.

Shattered rope.

Splattered hope.

Missing lives.

Living in hives.

It has never been kinder.

A brutal reminder.

A shitting kitten.

Vague Disgust.

Missing Trust.

Opinions Rust.

Living Thin.

Borne in sin.

Dress to Repress

Skin becomes him.

His eye gleams.

It's paid in your dreams.

Artfully composed.

Carelessly imposed.

You seem so soft spoken.

Yet you keep those eyes open.

To observe so cruelly.

You don't know me, you just think you do.

You wasted the truth, without any proof.

There's nothing within you to idolize. You can't sympathize, only synthesize.

I don't feel angry. I just feel tired. I don't want to look wired.

It's such a surprise when you find that your skin lies.

I'm sick of being on trial. Why do you keep looking at me as if I'm made of bile?

I'm harmless. I'm careless. There is no need for distress.

Despite being the same height, they look down on me as if it's their right.

I wish I had a place when no one was likely to see me, how far away I long to be.

Should I even bother? Will there be another?

They don't care if they don't understand. They don't care who I really am.

They presume too much, I want to be free of their clutch.

And if it's the last thing I ever do you see, I'm going to prove you wrong about me.