Vanity

I left the moon on the floor
To paint a picture of myself
The one you claim to adore
Silk and knots all withheld

But every time you explore
I'm uneasy with your touch
Face slammed to the floor
The pain's not worth the rush

False bravery
Rotten stomach
Tight-knit seams
I'll just stay on my own
And one day I'll be free

Impulsive vanity
Destructive vanity
Dishonest sanctity
A vapid fantasy

Do you like the skin I've stretched for you?
Do you like the marks I've made myself?
Do you like the mess I've grown for you?
Do you care for stupid things like me?

I set the moon on the floor
At least I sought the truth myself
Guilt behind closed doors
Sting so raw but can't tell

Now every time I explore
I'm reminded of your death
Fleece fell to the floor

With no trust of my own
And mulling curves and form
A quiet crown adorned
And my heart crushed deformed

Was he the one with the chest of lead?
Was he the one kissing cigarettes?
Was he the one with his wife embraced?
Was he the one with my love misplaced?
Was he the one keeping my arm pinned?
Was he the one I could never swoon?
Was he the one underneath my skin?
Was he the one to take instead of you?



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