I know.Sound,More Like This
notes, music, vibration, air
whizzes past my head as I write this.
It is the eight day of the third month, and I am alone.
I'm scared, and hiding within the place of my mind where no one can find me.
I know I am not safe,
but I do not care, this is my place.
No one can take it away from me and I refuse as the
shadows on my back that race through my mind, disguise themselves in my
sweet lullaby's into my ear as
they run, run and run past me as they promise.
They promise to save me, and I comply. I take their hand and run with,
as fast as I can.
They take me away,
towards the mountains they say,
and they claim to use the sun as a guiding star, but I daren't argue.
For I am not safe here,
and then the notes stop.
the blackness engulfs around me and I can't see
the sun anymore, all I can feel is the grasp of the demons on my hand
for they lied too,
their sweet words literally nothing to the beauty of
the word that is truth and the
My promise -- Three, not one.She escaped the diapers, Mum,More Like This
but you won't let her fly
you wont let her soar or
be free 'cause it pains you
see her go.
That's fine and dandy,
how you treat her. how
you care and love her.
how you dedicate each
of your life to her.
But you have three,
not one. two others suffer
in the dark, Mum. Two others
are pushed aside and