Dearme

you speak with decorations
running from your lips
you speak like you know
everything about anything
your words are covered
in milk chocolate coating

but deep inside, youre a  wasted carcass
deep down inside, youre rotten to the bones
decorating it all the ways you like
spread those confetti from your eyes

weeds in the grass
you choke all that is lovely...
a sweet venom
flowing in the veins of the heart

and yet embraced still
foolish foolish i am, foolish man
how many days more must i kill...

dont let it consume you
your self-centered Mr. Hyde
have you not seen him?
gazing at you in the mirror
playing his drums; thump - thump
till you let him out when the sun sets

now youve taken that poison again...
the one that vanishes ... Mr. Hyde
but as you sit on that park bench
in your vain glorious attempt
another justification of your soul

you see again at your own hands...
Mr. Hyde lives again...