Pupils

I sit in my desk
I watch the big screen
I see two planes crash into two tall buildings
I see that every year
I'm at the same desk I look to my left
But this time there's blood dripping all on my hand
It's from my peers
At night my cuts drain out all in the sink
Then I take some medicine spread through my brain
While I heal
Normalization to all I've consumed on the television and the internet too
I can't feel

It slips through my eye sockets making gaps in between
No void can fill the holes carved by the knife they all fein
Affluence regurgitates from the hands that all feed
I bite it even though I can't I'll lose all my dreams

My box is empty have I entered final healing
Nothingness is joy so I can't remember a thing
She doesn't even know that it's just her thoughts suppressing
She still zones out her arms caressing

Trauma fills her pupils
Power is our teacher we're their pupils
I lick the wounds clean I consume you
I've got to though my conscious don't want to

And trauma fills her pupils
Power is our teacher we're their pupils
I lick the wounds clean I consume you
I've got to though my conscious don't want to

I'll mourn the picture looking back

Trauma fills her pupils
Power is our teacher we're their pupils
I lick the wounds clean I consume you
I've got to though my conscious don't want to

And I'll mourn the picture looking back at me