Page 53 - Written Feelings

Voices

voices voices, oh so many
So loud, I can't hear my own
Crying, shouting, laughing, yelling
Echoing through every bone

Scratching the walls in my head
Marking down the days in passing
Drawing on my eyes in red
Like those wrists they want me slashing

Who do I believe is true?
Who is lying? Who is not?
Who is me and who is you?
Are my eyes open or shut?

Something in the distance, lurking.
Something is about to happen
I can see the devil smirking
Somethings wrong, or always has been

My mind in an open book
Every single page is black
Maybe if my hand you took
They'll turn white along the track