What you call you...
blood-curdled girl, hating pain so much that you sit with it, signaling away every helpful spirit, watching them as you wave with your breaking wishes, how many questions did you save, how many did you bury in your lyrics, singing with a soul that could create waves, but in silence you absorb the toll of silent days, you shine so bright, but you name yourself lurid, covered in darkness, every kiss bruises, laying among the shells with no muses, you shatter poetry to see what the book of truth says, the story where every hero loses, where what came before is what chooses, never worried if the shoes fit, you just put them on and watch yourself lose it, I can't help but want to get you out of that corner, but on the other side of the room, is another girl in a corner, that might as well be a tomb, and you hate her, but she's so nice to me, but you hate her being called sweet, thus, you've turned her into a bloodcurdling scream.
