Fear has made my body its home, a resting
place to lay its head. To feed. My courage
became breakfast in bed. Just enough fuel
to feed this disease that eats at me. You
can see its darkness seeping through my
pores, it dressed to me. Clothed in brown
skin I wore this, I wore fear the same
way I wear black every day and I hate it.
I hate it. The same way you hate the cold
in the winter. The burning feeling in
your chest with every shot of alcohol, yet you still drink, yet you still bundle
up to play in the snow so tell me what
does this a really be afraid of. I've
learned that this fear is just a figment
of my imagination, that I've let control
of me. A set of strings playing my life
like musicians do violins and symphonies.
I'm tired of this song. I think it's time
to change it.
