Bird Of Ill Omen Pronoun
Self, dare you still breathe?
Knowing, showing, growing this will to deceive
Eyes burn holes through these walls
These mirrors that stare bring knees to the floor
Person is what i am is what i abhor, no one wants my love, sliced wrists it would seem so practical defying odds of nature why save you all the pain?
I've tried to avoid me, but I always find myself
And if i cannot use me, I may as well throw me out
This pronoun slices thin the skin of self esteem
As i am wed to barrel in mouth, i take this self
My finger was on the trigger and i came so close tonight, my dream is blood and pain, face down in mud in rain
I soak the soil with stain
I'm sure i'll dream it again and again
The art of taking this self is far beyond eyes
One with cold steel lay this self quietly to rest
I die...
