Inside the dense, gray, fibrous space
Lies single dream, idea and desire
Bespectacled in wisdom, wrapped in lace
It waits its turn to blast the walls, and to inspire
The thought, inside the stone, fleck of forgotten life,
Condensed emotions, my desires.
On top of bed of sharp, barbed truths
So outstretched, it hurts to feel, to think
A lonely soul prostrates itself as it endures
You every breath, your whispers, lies, with every blink
The storyteller, you, a regular old clown, how you stink!
Contortionist of what is real and the truth
So what?! You tell me what's inside and how I hurt?!
Presume to know the depths of my black heart?!
Assume your soothing whispers can avert
An avalanche of sorrow, a farewell to senses,
Just before it starts?
I laugh, a shaking, braying, desperate production
My smile chock-full of angry, broken teeth.
You yearn for me to acquiesce, seek satisfaction
While in my own skin, trapped,
While in my own mind, stuck
I scream and wreath!
My heart remains unbroken - cold, dense, aggravating stone
My will stands tall in tightly curled and shaking fists
In fiery eyes, where fear, anxiety are broken and unborn
You tried to see, your tried to break
You tried and tried, with lies and fakes
To get inside my heart of stone,
You had your cruel fun,
And now you are done!
