you’re the type of guy
who sings his heart out until it gives
then takes a piece of mine
wine is splattered in my brain
what is left but to say
I hope you are doing well
Even though I cannot tell if I mean it
I hope I emulate a light so strong
it blinds those who do not welcome it
but in my head there is a song
which tells me I am no one’s muse
no one’s picture of honesty
a mirror and a reflection
who do I see
is it you, or is it me?
what if I cannot tell how to
cut the ropes that bind me to them
what if I refuse to look truth in the face
and ignore her scream to run away
if I drown her out, and then hurt anyway
If I plead and cry, even at my own demise
can I still hold your hand?
will you still see brightness in my eyes?
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