I'll Keep It Locked Up
The tears come rushing to my face,
as I plead for them to stop their race.
This pain just hurts so much,
the knife urges me to cut.
I try to say no,
as my heart starts to slow.
I just wish I could lay in a grave,
and slowly yet surely start to decay.
Should I tell someone,
someone I trust?
No, I can't tell,
even though I don't feel well.
The blade pierces into my skin,
the colness of death seeping in.
I know I should stop right now,
but the words my mind mutters are most foul.
She calls me names,
the one in my head is to blame.
I know they will see my scars,
I know they will take my thoughts too far.
I just want to leave this awful place,
I want to grow wings and fly away.
The sadness of it all is,
I am still only human.
Human is what I should be..
But my demons possess me..
Falling.. Falling.. Catch me..
Pick yourself up.
Wipe off the smudges.
Look around.
Smile at the judges.
It's a little thing.
We call it a production.
It takes over your mind.
A lot like abduction.
You can't show yourself.
For fear the audience will know.
Just keep to the script.
Let them watch the show.
Don't cry.
You're too good for that.
Smile a little.
This is how you act.
The little voice.
In your mind.
Tells your things.
Possibly so divine.
Makes your crave.
Makes you hunger.
To find something.
Your eyes are over.
Pick your head up.
The show must go on.
It will continue.
