My eyes are bleached,
My skin, sandpaper rough,
My hair, falling out in chunks,
I used to believe in deviation,
From the outside world,
Because I am an odd creation,
But now I lack the words,
My tongue is tied,
My nails, bitten off and bleeding,
My teeth, rotten yellow,
I thought isolation could be my salvation,
But the silence is maddening,
And nothing can shield me from desolation,
My own reflection is unsettling,
What else is there for me to say?
My lies are paper thin,
My blades are razor sharp,
And I am gone.
