Crimson
And I'm walking on all these razors, bleeding from the outside in. Every step another slice, another morning spent wondering how to begin. Do you think if I knew who laid this field of brutal snares that I would stand back and let them win? Not a chance. Would I remain idle as the ones who shattered this mirror escaped with their meticulous plans? No way in hell. But pieces of hell find their way out, I can taste their seasoning-- it's the growing tang of iron in my mouth. So many eyes seem to follow as I walk, They watch, they wonder, they doubt, as I grit my teeth and then simply bite down. Bright smiles and curious faces, My mouth fills with blood, but I don't dare make a sound. There's so much that could be said, and yet my words would be garbled, So don't hunt me for the answers, you well-intentioned bloodhounds. Always standing in the middle, A choking devil's advocate, How does my body ache so much when my heart feels so little? Thoughts