Vanity

I left the moon on the floor To paint a picture of myself The one you claim to adore Silk and knots all withheld But every time you explore I'm uneasy with your touch Face slammed to the floor The pain's not worth the rush False bravery Rotten stomach Tight-knit seams I'll just stay on my own And one day I'll be free Impulsive vanity Destructive vanity Dishonest sanctity A vapid fantasy Do you like the skin I've stretched for you? Do you like the marks I've made myself? Do you like the mess I've grown for you? Do you care for stupid things like me? I set the moon on the floor At least I sought the truth myself Guilt behind closed doors Sting so raw but can't tell Now every time I explore I'm reminded of your death Fleece fell to the floor With no trust of my own And mulling curves and form A quiet crown adorned And my heart crushed deformed Was he the one with the chest of lead? Was he the one kissing cigarettes? Was he the one with his wife embraced? Was he the one with my love misplaced? Was he the one keeping my arm pinned? Was he the one I could never swoon? Was he the one underneath my skin? Was he the one to take instead of you?