Nervosa

Look straight through me, look at the nightmare
Our past is but a dream that we're trying to escape
Trying to evade to erase ourselves
Look through me and see the advent of our obsessions
Behold, your child, perfection
A rotting shell of atrophy

Watching: crowds like crows, we furiously flock to tragedy
Observe the hurt then hasten back to our peaceful, quiet nests of blasphemy
Scapegoat: rather die and know, drag your failing body in tow
Witnessing the wake, conflagrate the ready oil at the stake
Binging: the culmination of purging what our lusts have borne
We hoarded all the world to find we'd lost any semblance of ourselves

This dying dance

I am not my own reflection
I am not myself, I am not myself
No, I am haunted by a non-existent lover
The specter, the ghost, the soul-starving host
I am haunted by a non-existent lover
I was gifted with the vision, but cursed to be the witness
Invisible to me

I'll be pale to match the walls and warped to trace the beams
Flushed to fit across the floor, so you can step right over me
Scouring this filthy slate, these crooked bones they won't break straight
Cracked and splintered like our house, upended by that first summer squall
Fading: so thin, you could snap me into the shape you need
Gaunt enough to slide through that wedding dress
Then stitch me to a fraying matrimony
Embalmed inside a never-ending ceremony

I am not my own reflection
I am not myself, I am not myself
No, I am haunted by a non-existent lover
The specter, the ghost, the soul-starving host
I am haunted by a non-existent lover
I was gifted with the vision, but cursed to be the witness

Invisible to me
Invisible to me
Invisible to me