Shame is hiding between that twisted wheel of fortune
Monsters lurk in my mirror
And I have been brought
To the corner of my room
Haunted by things I would rather forget
Broken glass on the floor
From my angry poltergeist
A mission I bring to me
The carpet as my marsian landscape
To drown within.
This tortured soul
Haunted by images refusing to fade
A torn up old photo
In black and white
Of me and my shadow
And the holes in my eyes
A rip on my soul
Haunted by bars surrounding my mind
Haunted by liquid filled balloons
Haunted by scratches and itches and irks and quirks and shaking and muttering and things I can never have or remember because delusionary hallucinations distracting my mind, the panic, the horror, the hellmouth is opened.
And scratches of hate, lined on my wardrobe.
