There is something particularly unnerving

when we exist in 2 places at once. 

I find it incredibly discerting, we shapeshift to align with our lies.

We keep our name and compsure,

We walk with our little heads high, 

But behind us is a trail of bodies

From those we sacrifices to live this life. 

 

They were suffocated by screams, 

we could have easily heard 

But they were loud and ugly. 

So I left them in the dirt. 

 

Ocassionaly it gets messy, 

then we find something new and shiny

That reminds us of who we used to be

before our hands were so bloody.

They see us with fresh eyes . 

 

We play a pretty part and we mean it for a second

but then our old habits creep up on us 

We fall into old patterns

I hear them call out occasionally

But the past is in the past 

It's not worth my time.

 

 Baby tells me "baby you're not the problem". 

With her big doe eyes,

I left out a few pieces of the story.

But baby believes me, 

For that i love her dearly,

I think i'll stay forever this time. 

But then baby becomes another corpse I bury. 

You could warn her but good old fashioned internalised misongony

Wins everytime. 

Imagine if we believed women more

You could have spared her life.