stained by the past

i wear my skull

i wear my skull, as if it was a peregrinate mask

i wear my skull, as if it was a peregrinate mask, and drowned in the puddle of my own tears

i wear my skull, as if it was a peregrinate mask, and drowned in the puddle of my own tears,

i wear my skull, as if it was a peregrinate mask, and drowned in the puddle of my own tears, and i lay on the street

i wear my skull, as if it was a peregrinate mask, and drowned in the puddle of my own tears, and i lay on the street, like a half-burnt cigarette

you couldn't tell

you couldn't tell the difference between my scars

you couldn't tell the difference between my scars and my stove-burnt finger

they were like charcoal-dipped tears

they were like charcoal-dipped tears, my lucid spirits have been cremated

for what it seems like forever

my dreams are like frosted dandelions

my dreams are like frosted dandelions, sable outlines of poisonous nectar

my dreams are like frosted dandelions, sable outlines of poisonous nectar,

my past was like

my past was like a

my past was like a cancerous

my past was like a cancerous thorn

my past was like a cancerous thorn.

written by- @chrysalis_06