Torn

i ran with a stitch

and they all laughed like cats

as i ripped out my hair and clawed at my eyes

wait for me please

he asked

what a lie

while i fall to your knees

and please till you die

 

bleeding such bleeding

all through my hair

running still running

not that he cares

invisible pain rains from the sky

and watchers abound

what a lie what a lie

watch while i wait to be pleased till i die

 

a storm rages on as i stand on high ground

waiting still waiting

for my pain to be found

fall will come soon

grass will be brown

and liar nor lie has yet come to town

i’ve found no new smile to be pleased by elsewhere

so, watch while I die to be pleased by thin air