My interior design,
Wasn't made for blurring lines
Or confusing truth from lies
Yet now I take the stand
My feet on fire, burning sand
My heart off running mad
I wanted just to live
And hoped I would be loved
Bleeding out I gave that up
Who would love a waste like ours
Set to break among the stars
If you could heal all my scars
Maybe I could love my heart
Maybe that would be a start
My own broken piece of art
This disease consumes so wide
And I shatter from inside
Not worth love and not worth pride
My exterior design
Wasn't made for blurring lines
Or confusing love and lies
Anthology of your work, please. This is moving, penetrating like I have come to expect from you.
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