She can't even tell,
but their hiding beneath her skin,
surrounded by a broken mold,
living in her head
twisting her thoughts
and haunting her steps
laughing at the reflection in the mirror
mocking her words
breaking the confidence
she thought she had...
They sit inside her lungs
and stop her breathe,
suck out every last bit of happiness
and the smile on her face
She's starting to crumble
and break
because she can't take
much more of the screams piercing through her
But isn't her fault for feeding them
and letting them hide under her bed?
Isn't it all her fault for listening?
