Ties tangled under my heart.
Unrecognizable due to its chains.
Bones aching for a change yet,
nails clawing at the surface of rage.
Skin boils with every passing day.
But you always hear me say,
“Your mind is fine,” you proclaim.
“The body well maintained.”
“I hate to say it, but I’ve got to tell it straight.”
“You have no soul and very little faith.”
No soul you say?
I never thought I would see this day,
Where I should have kept you at bay.
Time has passed and here we lay.
All this time modeling my soul like clay
to fit the needs of a single way.
All for it to wash away.
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