Puppets

With every new day
comes something more
that you wish to say
but your language is poor.

You don't know how
to talk to me right
If we started it now
it'd end up in a fight.

Whatever you do
gets to me badly
crawling under my skin too
the razor is all I see.

Picking up slow
laying it my cold skin
this is one chance i know
before I'm put away then.

A place where they say
they can help me heal
To keep me alive another day
and my dreams they steal.

They're just your puppets
fit nice and cozy
on your hand sits
my dream of being free.

Don't worry though
it will all be over soon enough
I'll just go and show
everyone how I am not tough.