The matter will settle,
Please, please don't speak of family.
I have worn myself to the bone,
And yet the public eye feel they see not enough,
My clothes simply do not hang,
And my eyes are plump and round,
A shine of health,
But the custom, the public, they ache over the bar,
They want to see pain and they want to see hunger.
These same vultures wish to pick at the flesh,
Wish to see more than is necassary,
Wish to tear it apart all the same.

Dedication, he has ruined the melancholy,
He has wrinkled the clothing,
And smoothed down the hair.

You see, my hair was slowly swallowing,
Sinking into life,
The sink before me swirled in sea water,
And, again, she spoke of the past.
The shine, the fool, the midnight travels,
And still she hung the blame in one place.
The creature started, it stirred and with the dying scheme,
Became a foaming monster,
Long dead and yet paraded before me,
Idly and comically.
Alas! The past I had so happily withdrawn from these past months,
Has been brought up, wrenched up, again!

I meet the strange on a daily basis,
I meet the suffering, converse with the no-goods.
Beauty and foul file in and out before me,
And still I am here behind dark wood.
"Yes, I don't mind, Yes, I am doing rather well".
But still the sinking thought,
Are they ever wondering?
I should not mind, I know, not another day of guilt or worry,
But somewhere they sit, as my fingers blue,
And they care not for my name, let alone my thought.
Yes, my years were consumed by the want of them,
And selfishly I never considered it was not of return.

My eyes have opened to the present, roughly and somewhat forced, his voice brings tears to my eyes, and I survey the Manor before us. Light has never been so settling, the evening drawing in; so tasteful. Never has genuine brick built such a fine exterior, never has such shimmering paper lined the in! You have ruined my writing, but you are settling this heart. You are holding this hand, the sea may has well be rippling at my ankles.
Another deer passes the horizon, and I feel you may discover the reason for this smile.

subtle.

No it isn't a week since any thing,
and i can't tie the wrist today,
and the cat on the back of my hand look just like misplaced veins.
And breath.
Second time round never happened for darlin',
he said 'Sugar, I should've came over'.
No one's ever good enough.
If you are still bones, then your hands are currently around my neck.

I tried to cut loose strands of hair, that hung out of line
but they wept sourly,
and the metal of the scissors began to ache in my hand.
Worse still,
the sun began to shoot rays through the bathroom window,
i felt my skin wretch as it thirstily drank down all that i had deprived it of,
since becoming one for the moon.
The hands on my neck loosened, but held
And my eyes suddenly shot a clearer view.
I delved the scissors into the mirror, and the strands leaped in fright,
I scraped my palm and fist across it's shattered surface,
and held my face to it's mirror's chest.
Somehow my eye's stayed open
And the mirror looked at my shattered self,
and judged upon words i had only yet thought.

God why did he come here,
i knew he was downstairs,
I heard his mug hit the table, i heard his keys scrape the counter.
Any more minutes, and he'd be at the door.
Any more hours, I'm sure he'd be demanding less.
At the kitchen table, my mug was too hot, but i clasped it with wide, subtle eyes.
At the door, the straps on my shoes just too tight
But he smiled at dull pain so much more than my fright.
So i turned to the window of the front door,
my reflection intact.
Marks on my skin, showed that of the bathroom,
before he could see what a mess I'd left on his tiles,
I whispered a few words, and left him a note.
Revealing to him,
That i should burn before choke.