Comfort

I can't stand this fragile state of mind
A blinding vision of how life is supposed to be
Seeing nothing but what's between the lines
Stuttering twitches from a peripheral fantasy
Rising every morning with a new friend to find
Death exists in sleep and dwells in lifes' design

We're walking in our own shoes with someone elses eyes
Mirrors gaze back with a hysterical laugh from reailty
A weakening sight that the proud could never realize
Or the smirking girls who get off on their honesty
We're all hung up on something that helps us play this game
An overwhleming emotion that paints our visions frame

Tainting the meaning of individuality through a fronted scene
Re-shaped compositions built from our iconic halucinations
Living behind a hollow imagery with a profound fixation
Of a subjective self portrait on an illuminated petistel
A last hope for some sort of unconditional comfort refill
These words live in place of who I once had been