The bones there that do not hide.
The food that never stays inside.
The pain I feel
The hurt I take
Please tell me that this girl is fake.
You were once real.
You once could feel.
And everything was okay.
You didn’t want to die everyday.
But now you’ve given in.
And everything is dead again.
You never look into your eyes.
You wear this skin as a disguise.
“The locks on the doors
Tell me when you’re crouched on all fours.
Counting tile losing bile and sleep.”
You want it too bad.
It’s all that you have.
All you want.
It controls you.
It’s over, and you know it is.
~Wings
