The ceiling mocks me in the darkness,
Its fan slowly turning and pushing my thoughts
Back to me as I try to fight my demons
As they begin to paint a panicked mind distraught.
Haunting voices whisper to me
As pain blooms in an icy chest,
Breaths become labored
While oceanic eyes grow wet.
They tell me that it is all a wicked game.
You do not want me.
You do not love me.
You do not need me.
I am merely entertaining.
Soft words are replaced by thorns,
Raw desires are tainted by doubt,
Welcoming hands leave the mind torn
While protective arms morph throughout.
I am bound and gagged by fear untamed.
The heart wonders when the light will fade
From their eyes when they look upon me,
And when the mask for their masquerade
Will fall before me as I drop to my knees.
The love that brews and bubbles within my veins
Sweetly, gently, attempts to placate
As I quietly beg you to stay
And to tell me that this is not just a wicked game.
