Sweetie, you should wear more make-up. Cover up some of those scars.

And just like a cavity you’re a hole that only gets bigger.
The foreign objects that penetrate your lungs build walls of plaque up all around you.
These walls weren’t built to last.
They’re ready to collapse,
But you’ll pick them back up.
Just like you always do.
They’ll only keep you down.
Just like they always do.
The bone begins to shatter.
The hole deepens.
Yet your problems don’t have much depth.
And you cover it up like a blanket does a bed.
The one you sleep under to dream away the pain.
But sleep is temporary. Morning comes too quick.
Speak.
It’s so much easier to deal.
Never let them tell themselves the truth about you.
Cavities never get smaller.
I’m scared for you.
Sacred to my heart.
I’m scared for your life.
You’ve just begun to fall apart.
I hope they reach you before you fall in.
They’re going to have to pull you out with the rest of them.
You’re like a band-aid hanging off a cut.
Grass that doesn’t grow.
A song that ends too soon.
A toy with dead batteries.
A guitar without strings.
A clock that doesn’t tick.
I hope they’ll dig you up.
Leave them down.
Have it all patched.
And you never look back.