I spilled a mess of gloss and scissors
Piano keys fill up sickly drains
Bandage my head in violin strings
I clothe
in coffee stains

I take things for granted
But this sunshine is so overrated
And the rain explodes so beautifully
Why are
These grey skies

Skin is ripened with charcoal blush
And lips are lightened with ink
I painted my hair with a muddied knife
Eyes heavy
With plastic
can't even blink.

There are few of us left
We're becoming extinct
Those who fly over grass
And with minds so distinct
A squirming of such
Cramped in at the bend
Not able to feel
Not able to mend
A broken little girl
Orphaned at heart
Flawed like forever
And forever a part
Of riddle collection
And following maps
These are the children
Considered as 'Traps'

And I take things for granted
But as strange as it seems
I want to breathe in the raindrops
I want to build a home made of dreams

Because we've got the same blood but we're different at the bone
And this is just a house masquerading as a home