Curtains are drawn to a close
The room fades to the deepest shade of ivory
Candles are the only source of light
Scent of peppermint permeate the room
These are the clothes...that I call skin

dressed in the color of pure innocence
Silence begins to fill the empty space
wishing to speak, but I am traumatized
questioning my every motive
lacking comprehension  in every comparison

These are the clothes... that I call skin
Burnt from the bottom of my dress
Ripped through the razor of my wrist
no one seems to understand

These are the clothes....that I call skin
Anger. Depression. Anxiety from multiple angles.
trapped in my own distance. In need of an angel.
Craving attention from those outside the lines

Tired of the lies.
These are the Clothes... that I call skin