Who are you even trying to fool anymore? My reflection sneers back at me
I run my hands through my unwashed hair
i don't know i don't know i don't know
It seems the only thing you are good for anymore is the promise of possibilities
the strings tied around your torso are colorful and plentiful but they lead nowhere
only the blood red strings around your wrists remain taunt
and they are tied to heavier things, the things you'd like to forget,
things you cannot live without.
There is an arrow in your back,
and it is killing you, i think.
it's turning your skin purple and it festers and bubbles
but you would die if you were to cut it out.
I wish i could make this monster my friend
but it never speaks to me.
