A harsh record plays in the back
of my mind,
and my manipulations of my history
splinter me because it gets to the point
when sorting through the lies becomes harder
than the blemishes they covered at the time.
I spent so much time creating an image,
a person that I wanted to be, a person that
wasn't the wretch and wreck of a human being that
that it overtook me, a lie greater and sadder than
I faked it until I made it, but the shallow stuff that
made my mask shredded so
easily that I was
forced to reinforce it with the terrible lies and
easy wit that came so easily when peace didn't.
The drums roll in the song and my heart plays along,
because it's never been quite on cue ever since I
jumped the rails, and decided that a life of torture
was the better option of a life spent in fear.
I spent my days smiling and nodding, forever
afraid that someone would see the fear,
the fact that the light reflected from my eyes
a little too sharply for there to
be any sort of depth beneath them.
If the eyes are windows to the soul then
mine open onto a brick wall that
I erected piece by piece, laying down lies
like defenses with the calculation of
Jesus, but I made my life so much harder,
and I wish that I knew my next steps
because they all seem to be fading,
and they're taking me further and further
away from the people I think I love.
I don't know enough to know what I am,
but by God I think I'll die trying.
This song boils to a crescendo, but I
don't know if it will break;
don't know if I will break.
I may be shallow, and I may be affected;
I may be arrogant, and I may be deluded,
but only I am responsible for the actions as
a result of my thoughts, and
I don't know what I'll choose.
I don't know where the song ends.
I only know I suddenly crave silence.