I am but a monster inside,
A cluster of splinters
And hastily sewed cracks
I'm Edward Scissorhands,
Loving all with all of me
But only made to cut and tear
There is no good in me
That doesn't come with cruelty.
Tunrning it inside,
'Cause I'm loving all of them
Even the bully! Even the brute.
After all, am I not a tormentor myself?
My intimate,
Own
Personal
Hangman?
I see you too
Lost in the barrens
Of a hell you gardened
Oh I wish I could enfold you
With all the kindness I could bear
Like I wish someone would do for me
But there would be nothing left of us
But a cluster of splinters
And hastily sewed cracks