Words || Rhys Smith
I know sacrifice, and the fear that comes with it.
I’ve lived with them for so long,
I’d almost forgotten how the world tasted
And it’s Springtime now and I’m ready to change,
I’ll paint this world with my words.
Scream at the top of my lungs
– Just to be heard.
I’m writing again, and not just in their words.
These are mine, not given to me by the voices in my head,
But fed to me from the life I’ve lived with all this time.
These are my words
And I’ll never give them away again.
Who the fuck cares if I bleed for my choices?
At least they’re mine in every way.
It’s liberating finding your voice,
When you’ve lived in silence for so long.
It’s time to break the chains
And if that means I need to hang?
Who cares, it’ll be worth the fucking pain.
I’ve always lived in hunger – loved it to a point.
Parched and empty bellied
As a perfect child doing no vice.
And man did it suck.
You see that’s the thing with hunger,
You can’t ignore it forever
– And don’t even try running from it.
Eventually it catches up to you.
So, I’m giving in and letting it burn my bones.
Giving in to the hunger
– For love, for sex, for anything at all.
As long as I don’t hurt anyone,
Who could give a fuck who I fuck?
I’ll be so full and never hungry again.
And if I can’t?
I’ll drink some Nightshade
So at least I’ll be dead.