Shadows play out passages

in which our souls keep neatly masked

Those horrors and secrets define

the inappropriate questions you've asked

Who was I yesterday?

Where do I lie now?

What depths of laughter and sorrow

will I face tomorrow?

Promises from a liar

tie complicated strings

All of which will mean nothing

once I've let go of those things

I need not know the answers

for the questions always change

And I dare not seek normality

for I will find it is insanely strange

How do I heal the processed wounds?

Why was I left to dry?

Who has all the answers now?

What passions make me cry?

Press harder on the soft spot

That's where the ends touch

If you find my soul inside the womb

You'll know I've had enough

Who can I become in better days?

When will I kill the hurt?

All my passages in my shadow's hands

have been buried in righteous dirt