Look straight through me
Look at the nightmare
Our past is but a dream
That we’re trying to escape
Trying to evade, to erase ourselves
Look through me and see
The advent of our obsessions
Behold, your child, perfection
A rotting shell of atrophy
Watching
Crowds like crows
We furiously flock to tragedy
Observe the hurt then hasten back
To our peaceful, quiet nests of blasphemy
Scapegoat
Rather die and know
Drag your failing body in tow
Witnessing the wake
Conflagrate the ready oil at the stake
Binging
The culmination of purging
What our lusts have borne
We hoarded all the world to find
We’d lost any semblance of ourselves
This dying dance
I am not my own reflection
I am not myself, I am not myself
No, I am haunted by a non-existent lover
The spectre, the ghost, the soul-starving host
I am haunted by a non-existent lover
I was gifted with the vision
But cursed to be the witness
I’ll be pale to match the walls
And warped to trace the beams
Flushed to fit across the floor
So you can step right over me
Scouring this filthy slate
These crooked bones
They won’t break straight
Cracked and splintered like our house
Upended by that first summer squall
Fading
So thin, you could snap me
Into the shape you need
Gaunt enough to slide
Through that wedding dress
Then stitch me to a fraying matrimony
Embalmed inside a never-ending ceremony
I am not my own reflection
I am not myself, I am not myself
No, I am haunted by a non-existent lover
The spectre, the ghost, the soul-starving host
I am haunted by a non-existent lover
I was gifted with the vision
But cursed to be the witness
Invisible to me
Invisible to me
Invisible to me
