our bodies

my body

The crown on my temples is gone, a once gifted child broken by his own ego.
Endless praises put me on a pedestal, my own little throne.
Crown of thorns, I can't save myself from me because I'm dead to me.
Everything I thought to be true was just a fucked up fallacy.
I sit on a throne of sticks and stones.

Uniformity and conformity. My whole life I've raged against the machine, fought against systems and tried to express my truth.

Hair  is a canvas for the soul.
I'm growing a wild and unruly mane, that makes me look insane. Someone is going to see in me an extension of themselves.

My eyes see what I want them to see, which hasn't been good for me so far.
All I see is desolation when I'm with the people closest to me.
Bright eyes, make no mistake, my eyes are glazed over, bright red.
Eyes that mistake unmoving for dead. Eyes that can't see through lies so obviously said.
This is me, I never seem to see the beauty in impermanence, only the pointlessness.
I couldn't see through her lies, her visage is a cruel façade.
Is she real? Is she the portrait she paints of herself? With these eyes, will I ever see things for what they truly are?

Nobody knows, I wish it were smaller.

Nobody knows the words out of my mouth are all lies. I lie because I'm an empty hollow-bodied approval fiend, a void I desperately try to avoid.

My heart is a glass house long broken into the tiniest shards. Each shard wants its own thing.

I can't eat to save my life, you can see it in my frame. I've been exorcised of sleep demons, you can see it in my gait and my eyes.

There's blood on the leaves of my family tree. Do I carry it on? Or do I spill it chasing a skirt on my screen?

My body is not God's temple, I don't know what it is really. Inside me I have a Will and a heart. Pen and paper, vessel for my will, vessel for someone else's will. Who is this? This is me. What am I? Who am I? I am myself, this body is myself. The shape that forms me. The me that can be seen but can't be touched. I feel like I am not myself, I'm rotting. I cannot recognize what I've turned into, I'm losing my shape and my psyche. I feel my presence is somewhere else. Is someone else there? Where is the rest of me?

With her..