Smacked out- One last hit of the night.
A cold and ruthless chemical buzz.
My skin's alive- Hands stained from their cries.
The dead once again become wise as I wash 'em in lye.
Slipping through the cracks and shadows-
The absence, I grow hollow.
The lies, I calm hysteria.
Collect the eyes; bleach the features.
No more reasons.
Not now- Not forever-
Deep inside, a demon in the mirror.
Bleach and lye burn and blister.
Tossing nightmares- Clawing beneath.
Paranoia, it'll beat you.
Twisting rhetoric to justify my crime.
I breathe deep.
The flesh always falls white.
A story, perhaps a happy ending?
Table set for two; yet no one will find...
Ulterior motives lie-
Tossing nightmares, bleach and lye.
I scream- Screaming into the white of the eye.
Fluttering like a dream, turning away quietly.
Such revolting eyes- Such disgusting eyes.
We've become desensitized to the truth-
Laid out on a cold slab.
Declare the victim; play the victim.
Coy to everything, yes even you- Truth-
Laughs and lies.
I promised life.
A stroke of your pale face; a kiss goodbye.
Forget the meaning of empathy.
These aberrant voices still exist in haunting screams.
The muse could never tell.
Sew the lips of God-
We'll rot in Hell.
Calculated, yet they call it disease.
A sickness fueled by meaningless dreams.
Such putrid eyes-
Such disgusting lies-
See no evil-
Folded hands never point to the crime.
The soft sounds that tear us down.
Eating away inside.
Pues seating pain caress truthful rantings.
There I was, delivering closure; eternal rest.
Circumincession as thoughts smear.
Breaking over glass and dull mirrors-
I am fatalism at work.
Strung out; wring out every pleasure.
One at a time-
Memorize every face-
Gaping black holes; endless visions addle the mind.
I am no monster-
A heart still beats deep inside.
The beast to burden morality-
To rise above the dependency of a downfall.
Looking through the glass-
I keep looking through the glass, as if I was a child.
Punishing my madness, I walk deeper into Hell.
The sickness of the lies-
The stench; struggle and pain of the bleach.
Clean and clear the cries.
Content in watching them die-
Rack 'em up.
A saint like pose-
Starving ribs to be robbed of flesh.
Screams clear, like dawn is to night.
Beauty of the eyes staring back from the palm of my hand.
No trace will be found.
No hand to point it out-
No legs to crawl, no way to God.
The eyes will always remain mine.
The callous of my hands.
Cracking- Breaking- Weakened tools of the trade.
No matter where they go, I will always have their eyes.
The world they see- This world is mine.
All roads lead back to here-
The gesture leads to finality-
Nothing but lies, lies... lies...
Bleach & lye.