This heart seems as callous as a guitarist's fingertips,
slowly hardening with time.
Time that passes like honey in an hourglass.
This soul is like a hollow diamond casing,
imprisoning the building tears and emotions
that would suggest I posses a functioning heart.
My eyes are as depthless as a mirror,
as dull as charcoal and as near sighted as a devious promise.
Unable to see what I will to ignore,
I see the world through slitted eyes,
nearly convincing myself that fear and shame do not exist...
Forgetting the scars that decorate my psyche.
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