I feel as though I can
always be too many people,
instead of just one me.
And I'll hide away, 
in my costume imagery and
fake the sunlight you see.

Where is my mind?
Did I let myself get so far
behind the truth that
the clues are tripping me up?
What's the fuss about?
Why do I doubt myself?

Oh there's only sin
that I bask in,
as all the colours go a shade
of sticky, pale grey.
Soft but the light pierces,
pains my eyes to focus.

Tame this tragic tendency,
someone else can fix the deadness
I keep within me.
Certainly she waits for my healing.
I'm stealing my sanity
and voting in favor of humanity.

Lust isn't love...
and it will never be.