• This mess is getting out of hand.
    Or is it just falling into place?
    Losing sense of what’s only pretend
    I’m falling fast from grace.

    My mind is racing madly
    Between this constant binge and purge
    Thinking maybe it’d make it possible
    For my true self to emerge.

    My body’s being shaken
    While someone screams to make it right.
    But I can’t hear or see a thing-
    Guess this blindfold’s on too tight.

    So as I walk this tightrope
    Stretching through this tangled web,
    I will find my wings and fly
    In spite of whats ahead.