Note to Self

Chewing on the wires
of a backwards pantomime.
Tick tock, tick tock, darling,
you're running out of time.

I can hear your quickened heartbeat,
it's a little fast, you think?
Why are you scared, now, sweetness?
It's just an issue, just a kink.

You should know, we see right through you.
We can read you like a book.
Why do you think we can't stand
to take the smallest look?

The rainbows that eat at your mind,
they're turning into ghosts.
Electrocute yourself, oh, darling,
it's what you do the most.

We knowing you're dying now to bleed,
and you're bleeding just to die.
We understand your truths
and see past the alibi.

The end is drawing nearer,
note to self, you're almost dead.
Isn't it scary when you're talking to yourself
and it's not just in your head?

Black boxes always haunt you,
and you're running out of time.
The world just lost it's rhythm
in your silent pantomime.