Wearing thorns as a chokerYou
Wearing thorns as a choker
You saw me bare as a babe
Holding the poker
That shuffled my father's ashes.
Wearing a smile
You saw me cut my wrists
Holding the file
That slit my veins.
Wearing a mask
You saw someone different
Who was happy as can be
And whose songs were filled with joy rather than
Of misery.
This poem is about:
Me