Grazing skin on stone – what has been done?    Welts on my knuckles as I cling on       Hide these crimes and I can’t feel the pain    Without a needle track the mapping of my vein    One word from you moves tendons within me    Oceans of guilt – yet you are free       Time…Love…Age…Hope… (Won’t comfort me).       Blood on my tongue and the feedback in my ear    Swims in and out but you won’t disappear    Now I’ve found purpose I’m no longer the man    I crumble to dust as your guilt sets me free       I swallow my own blood…I clear my vision    I open up to you… so you can grip my neck and poison me with fury       Under the what? Fury.       I can’t trust this.    I won’t trust this.    I don’t want to feel this way.