I washed the violence off my skin to feel everything else.

There a sides of me I've left in rooms, in a house made of all of my sufferings, I don't go there unless I have to, and I hope you'll never know what's inside.

I'm reaching into your name to find a small place to call home.

I gathered my pain, dug it out and with weeping wounds and a throbbing heart I painted time out on the walls.

Come with me, you won't even remember when it got so dark.

Even the light knows when to pull away or burn me down.

I'm letting these fallen down dreams spill out of this quiet despair I call my heart.

Watching endings begin, without a different path, I'm still trying to enjoy the dying roses along the way.