Silence Is Golden But Gagging Is Messy

Swollen cheeks and a blistered mouth keep ruining my mask.
I've held back for days but I feel weaker. Disgusting.

Paint me a new mask. Something beautiful and clean.
I want to swim in porcelain. Colour me pink with wild eyes.

I haven't slept for years and I dream everyday.
Ears filled with bloody songs and lips like sand.

I once read about a girl who would say "Once when I was a real girl..."
Now I know what she means. Reality is a fleshy memory that swings on wires.

My existence is tiresome and an enigma of twine.
A tangled mess I don't want to unravel.