Pretty, flowery, simple words,
things I know you’ve already heard
a thousand times and maybe more,
repeated so much your head becomes sore.
The truth is lost in all the false,
drowning someone till they have no pulse.
They are told what they want to hear,
seduced by those lies as they draw near.
Because who wants to shed the light
in the darkest of caves, highest of heights?
Where those lies have found their refuge,
safe in the depths of ever-growing deluge.
But rather than watch the life leave your face,
I’ll reach out with desire like it’s a race
towards the unwanted and ugly torch of truth
In hopes it can save someone like you.
Truth is every act you’ve done is unclean;
the wrongs you’ve done, you’ve masked with a screen.
Negative words can be crudely linked to the past,
fuck up after fuck up, you always come last.
The darkness has become your friend;
you loath at any hint of its possible end.
Because this lack of life has been all you’ve known,
any possible light is something you’re never shown.
It’s ironic though, your guardian for eternity
has been your terror, nightmare and enemy.
But when you try to speak up to tell you are scared,
the darkness tears towards you in anger, teeth bared.
Because you’re not allowed to feel safe;
lost and alone, like a dirty, forsaken waif,
luck is supposed to pass you by,
love is not even allowed to say “hi”.
….
And people wonder why you’re scared.
That you’re kept up at night, a slave to your terror,
Just because you can laugh on the outside,
doesn’t mean you don’t have an emptiness to hide.
The truth is all here, as ugly as it always will be,
but it doesn’t mean “this is me”.
You have to choose what to do with these words
Are you going to let them cattle you like herds?
Are you going to follow those who have gone before you?
The people who have fucked up through and through?
Are you going to drag yourself down this horrible path?
Where all you’ll be met with is more and more wrath?
Are you going to leave the supposed inevitable end
to become a truth, to let it happen?
Because it will, if you just leave it all be;
it will if you choose to say “this is me.”
Or you can choose another way,
you can choose something new to say.
Will you go through hard times once again?
As many times as you say your name.
But choosing this path does not come without reward,
there will be places in life you’ll be restored.
And I can promise you this truth,
One that can be attained by anyone, even you:
You will become the definition of strength,
your heart will find its way to peace;
love will come to you in the strangest of ways
and you’ll raise your head in confidence when you say your name.
