I have to rip it off and expose my myself to discomfort.
The sun is comforting and warm,
I have to run into the cold shadows.
It’s as if some horrible sickness causes me to destroy happiness.
The rose is ripped apart in my hand, I only wanted to smell it.
Yet I destroyed beautiful enjoyment.
Pleasure will be cut away.
In the end I’ll kill it.
Sweet honey fills my mouth, but it comes off my tongue as poison.
This dysfunction is spilling out.
Murdering joy and peace.
Calm is a desperate search for my own survival.
Scrub this rot off my heart.
Chains lock my soul to angry hate.
I don’t want this anymore!
I need a new heart, to rid the black.
New eyes to dry the tears.
New ears to kill the shouts.
New lips to stop the venom.
A brand new self to escape the pain.
What will it take to mend my brokenness?
I want this sickness burned away.
I want the sun to drive away the chill in my veins.
I need freedom from my own insanity.