homeward bound

thursdays // why is every thursday so sad

bright eyes
frills blown by wind
and the things i've seen
beneath the skirt
fires, never meant to start
how do i stop this
machine,
i promise i'll be good
and i will
love the world
like i should
show me how to stop this
machine, i'd end it if i could

i hold an iron fist
my eyes gaze 
at the fires i've started
past tastes bitter for years
and people still say i am cold
please, someone, stop 
this machine,
this blood on my hands
it all scares me,
for the bruises that i've caused
someone stop this
thing that i've become
i'd give anything 
to lift the weight's ghosts
that crawl in my ears
forgive me for all the times
i never could