A black rectangle sits upon my heart, Always locked behind closed doors.
The voices tell me, "Dont worry they are all yours."
I want to tell somebody, anyone.
Need to get this story, my story, out.
"YOURS, exactly." Again the voices talk to me.
I over look them and let my lips free.
The story, My story, Flows right out of me.
She listens, very well.
And in the end the guilt frees from my head.
I leave, finally feeling like me.
Then the voices are back.
Angry.
Why are they so angry?
I plead, cry to them,
"No please! Shes my only friend!"
They disagreee, take controll.
I black out,
Wake up in the cold.
Dazed, i find my way back to the light.
There she floats, like driftwood in a lake.
I want to cry, Scream for help.
Suddenly the horiffic events fill my mind.
it was me?
I did this?
To the only person id ever miss?
"No! Not me, the voices!"
They yell back, tell me "It was for the best now you handle the rest."
so i take that cold, empty driftwood, toss it in the hole.
Bury that body deap and leave on my own.
More secrets fill the box, then its locked.
So i contemplate on telling someone, anyone..
Black out..
Oh shit there goes another one..