secret codes and battleships
I will admit there's a pattern. One we've created ourselves.
This is why it is so hard.
and every time I realize how false and twisted it all is, there it is.
and everytime I see the pathetic attempts for what they are,
Words come out in between my clinched teeth,
I weigh them againsit each other, not knowing the impact they will have.
And it is always too late to change, they can never be erased.
all those codes and hidden meanings,
created an illusion of importance, of raw truth.
and every time I realize how false and twisted it all is, there it is.
banging on the door, ringing the bell, knocking on my heart.
and everytime I see the pathetic attempts for what they are,
I build up that copper coil of anger and I feed on it.
Feed on it until I remember starving is the answer.
And starved for attention it is easy to get hungry
haunted by ghosts it is easy to become a ghost.
Words come out in between my clinched teeth,
I weigh them againsit each other, not knowing the impact they will have.
Not knowing what I intend with them, they just pour out.
Like children to the playground.
And it is always too late to change, they can never be erased.
Silence is the cure, but I keep choosing the disease.
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