How can someone be nostalgic for something they’ve never had
What is this incredible weight with no real substance?
Phantoms weren’t ever meant to be this heavy
I’ll soon realize this was the nightmare I’ve been waiting to have
Maybe I’ve been confusing my demons for angels,
Maybe I’ve been embracing darkness out of this yearning to feel
Feel something, feel anything, feel everything,
When mentally cutting myself wasn’t going deep enough,
Handing over the knife to someone else always seemed to do the trick
People cut, people suck form your wound but oh they also care
Everyone is a saint, a broach of a heart of gold pinned on their lapel
Is what you can see, is what is tangible, is what holds up in court
Soon those wings will come, sprout of my back in a burst of blood and flesh
Metamorphosis is supposed to be painful, evolution is supposed to hurt
And I’ll fly away from this old shell, leaving behind everything tangible
Soaring through the sky in a burst of brilliance and light
Flying higher and higher, closer to the sun, never stopping
Burning up on approach, never to be, never to feel, ceasing to exist.
