I'm made up of wires. Open wounds, deflated tires. You can tell me what to do, and I'll believe you.
I'm not myself, I have no home. I'm finding out this image is not my own. The only thing I seem to feel is numb.
Sometimes I wonder if it's my blood pumping through my heart, and if I'm really you, feel free to pull me apart. I gotta wonder if it's my life coursing through my veins. What part of me have I not shown? This image is not my own.
I've been reprogrammed- reprogrammed- all of my life. At this point, I don't know what it means to be alive.
Shutting down- Closing off- I think I might've grown too soft. I think I'm stuck in my own mind, there's nothing left of me to find.
Sometimes I wonder if it's my blood pumping through my heart, and if I'm really you, feel free to pull me apart. I gotta wonder if it's my life coursing through my veins. What part of me have I not shown? This image was never my own.
I'll protect you as long as you want me to. Mould me to your will, I'll continue to love you still. I'm always put on postpone.
Imagine not my own.
©poetic_peh
P