Razor Wire

As much as I’ve tried, to no avail, escape, your hold is too strong, and I can’t catch a break.

My arms are bound to my chest and steel to my side.

My lacerations are deep, my skin opens wide.

I found a home, in which I cannot foster.

My flesh is tempered like a blacksmith’s daughter.

My veins dried up, but my blood stained the water.

I cannot beat Mother Love, even if I fought her.

Charred and laser fire, I burn while I’m frying.

In barbed and razor wire, I’m wrapped and I’m dying.

Impaled by one shot to redirect my pain, jumble the tracks that derail my train.

Yes, I played the woman in Silent Hill, because under my flesh, the metal digs still.

As much as I’ve tried, to no success to break free and get away, I thought like a predator, but survived as a prey.

Depth is bound to the bruises and wounds under my skin.

The scars look like a cat did it because I bear it and grin.

I was given nine lives, now I’m down to three.

I’m weighed down by chains, somehow I must break free.

As I gazed at the whole picture when I couldn’t really see.

By the world, I felt hated, but the world’s a reflection of me.

Nights and days, so tired that I just need some rest.

The tightened razor wire is guarding my chest.

I hold my arms out to begin my inspection, but I hide all the scars to avoid the detection.

You can tell the truth but won’t always set you free.

I just locked up my heart, as I threw away the key.