Imma scrub 'till my face is long gone,
flatten up my nose, pop out my eye-balls,
curl up my lips, push my ears in from the sides,
so I can't hear the lies, but I can't decide,
how far I should go,
now I'm almost at my toes, each hair I pulled out,
the smoothness of my skin reveals what I'm all about,
fingernails, wrinkles, what else without a shout?
without a word from my mouth, I simply take out,
now I'm scrubbing so hard my skin turning red,
beneath the hotness of the sun I laid and I bled,
waiting for the return to the holiest of places,
where recognition of self no longer requires faces,
I turned myself inside out to repent my sins,
what else can I do without? cut off my limbs?
if you say so then I will take the shower of cleanse,
but it seems in the dark underworld I blend,
I was fooled by my perception of aesthetic trends,
take me away, no longer can I mend... |
Submission Name: Conformity in the Darkest Hour
