My scars light up on fire,
every time I reminiscence,
of the abyss, I was held captive in.
the mirrors are my liars,
they told me I would never come to win.
The walls are my only,
the listeners in the dark,
of my sighs and my prayers – holy,
as I begin to remember your strawberry marks.
I’m a prisoner of my universe,
of this glass wall, I have made,
of my soul that is wounded,
of my body – decayed.