and finally gazed into the thing that scared me most.
it doesn't seem that hard,
no reason why it took me this long to get here,
except for the fact I couldn't face the fear
that only exists inside my mind.
you're a beauty and an artist,
and I'd sell my belief's for you as my goddess.
if you ask me now
I can't tell you why I ever
thought she was better.
you hear gossip
& think its gospel,
hear a plea
& take it hostile,
and what's inside,
we won't ever really know.
and all that's left is a hollow shell,
I'm as empty as this house I've built around me.
substance is a foreign object,
in a world where nothingness prevails,
where no ones really who they're meant to be,
no one even knows who they're supposed to be.
40 is the new 20,
billions the new mill,
and the televisions telling us to stay indoors.
what have we come to?
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