menemenakk
"The truth is mine, but I bear none to speak, To keep my mouth in shambles, my sanity to keep. Because they started rambling through the walls, they speak; They want to rot the house, to make my body meek. Hinges rust, the moths crawl through my skin, The floorboards choke on everything I've been. Father is absent, but he is quick to swear; Mother is present, but it is nothing there.
Their words cut me open-they carve me precise, Alcohol's the sinner; sinning is the vice. The mold in the corners-it has learned my name, It breathes when I breathe, it thinks I'm the same. The mold takes my breath; the walls start to bend, While the judge, my Father, tells me to repent."