I can mutilate away the weight
I can mutilate away the pain
I can mutilate away the anger
But I cannot mutilate away the memories
Why can't I starve away the images engraved into my mind?
Why can't I cut away the thoughts coursing through at a constant rate?
Why can't I burn away the scenes scorched on the back of my eyelids?
Why is it so simple to mask the components of reality from the world
But so infinitely impossible to hide them from yourself?
Author notes
Haven't written on here in a VERY long time, tell me what you think loves
