I guess I've lost it all,
Every last bit.
I've damaged my brain
And every night is a fit

The red off my rose,
The bruises off my back.
The flush off my composure
(But the painkillers I packed)

I sleep with ghosts;
I have phantom lovers.
They penetrate and linger;
Above me, they hover

The ghosts of a grave
(Of a musty catacomb)
My moods come in grey
Fossils that roam.

The memories haunt
But only I see
The dead things that live
Inside of me

I keep them safe
Though their fatality suffuses
And murders me equally
(Only part of me refuses)

So maybe my life is still
And I live in the past
And I lie with spirits
That I can't make last

They strip me of joy,
But also of pain.
Bathe me in the blood of a marred life
(Catharsis keeps me sane)

No fantasy is healthy,
And no truth can heal.
If you open your eyes,
You don't want to feel.

So
Farewell to reality.
There is nothing left of me.
Not even
(The red off my rose,
or the color in my cheeks)