I sit quietly waiting for a sign of life,
A stirring beneath this sheet of lies...
But there's nothing to help me,
No man to save me, from this sad
And pathetic excuse of a smile.
There's no one besides me to pull
Me against them, to let me play
With the rise of their chests and
I would kill for a moment of silence
Within, a moment in which I'm not
Longing for him, tangled in sheets,
And tied up in me from within,
My soul contracting and forming a
Thin, spiderweb cage around me,
A lover within of slow butterflied,
With broken wings, covered in lies.
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