The shackles I wear are starting to wear
My soul into a world of pain.
The nightmares in my mind are pushing
My sanity to the brink of breaking.
The ribbons around in my hair
Are fraying with each second I fight.
Can't you see me falling apart?
The words I say no longer have
Meanings, for there is no emotion.
The sickness I have is from my
Own venom, poisoning myself.
The eye liner is running from
My tears escaping their locked prison.
Can't you see I'm broken?
You come to me and say
"I would fix you, but you're perfect."
I reply simply that I am broken.
"Perfect."
"Damaged."
"Perfect."
"Worthless."
"Let me fix you, then."
But, how can I when you think I'm not broken at all?
Can't you see I'm missing half of my
Soul?
Heart?
Mind?
Sanity?
How will you fix the unknown?
How can you save me from
Myself?