Fixate on the sky

I'm not art,
I'm trash in pretty packaging  

The Comatose angel,  
I'm always dying for the audience  
  
I'll only perform at night
Where I wear my scars like stripes
and while everything's always gloom  
Petals in bloom,  
Underneath the star crossed skies

Come on now,
practice at 9
The Scene?
     My demise
  
I witness the fake making it's way
Stay away from the days that I'm awake
Gone,  
like the times I felt love
Strong,
like the hits I took from you
Dove.
Fly away my future desire
Where it was consuming the room like my world was on fire
  
Dire excess stress is all I'll ever be,
Heart rushing,
unable to maintain this erratic beat.
Because I'm always more unstable when all the eyes are on me.
And Dreams.
   Are my only landscape