Admitting is defeat
I cannot tell you of all the blood I've spilt while craving an escape
Or shed any light on my darkest thoughts or the monsters that they make
I cannot tell you of all the wounds I've made trying to justify the wrongs
Or expose you to the gilded promises that lie in death's sweet songs
I cannot share my pain or even my plan to get away
But instead I smile and wave in whispers hiding the truth from display
