I’ve never done anything like this before. My past is shadowed by moors of horrors. Everything I write is a story in its own right.
You’ll see all that I’ve destroyed, you will. Like a phoenix I will rise and fall like the chest of a man who’s sits in his home waiting for something but he'll never know. Cuz he’s always alone, except for his mirrors.
Like a phoenix you will rise out of the ashes overcoming fear. And me, I’m certainly no help at all.
If I hide from myself then maybe I wont fall. If I cut out my tongue would you mind at all? I’d feed it to a snake. I'd feed it to myself, and I, would swallow it…
My face is covered by a mask of clay, an opera house of vanity. Outside the children are peering in, and they wonder why we do this to them. Why we laugh, so quiet, so easily.
And the pots and pans in the kitchen sink, are left dirtied there, on the brink of sleep. And we all, want to do it, so eagerly. We are all so destined, to collapse, in the flame. The rats, and spiders have taken over our homes. And we live in the holes. Yeah we’re all alone.
And its just, so simple, so aggravating.
I’ve never done anything like this before…my past is shadowed by the moors of horrors…and I breathe alone. I breathe on my own. Without, artificial, lungs to hold me up. I will never know. I will never rise…I will never…fly.