More Than A Prison

There's a girl in the attic locked in with black lies
Her shattered fears only disorient her -
Is this place real? Or is it imagined
Was this forced upon her, did she create it herself?
The longer she stays the more difficult it is to remember -
Who she is, what is this, where is she


The questions are too much - blocked out they become
Wave after suicidal wave consume her leaving her broken on the floor
Each breath making her feel more than she wishes to
Every breath of night touching her bone
The voices, they whisper. Telling her things she would have never said
There's a heart crying out somewhere, faintly familiar


But instead she stays in the attic, she's grown comfortable perhaps
In the depths of her mind something's nagging - something's not quite right
A part of her longs for the day it is free


But what's this? Is that a ray through the curtain?
The dawn of... what? What is this?
Not what she would have thought.
This isn't her wanting what she had
This is wanting something more

Everything has its price, quite cliche isn't it?

But I think it holds true


She didn't lock herself away from the world -
She locked it away from her
The world is a place full of nothing, very little at most
To become separate from the world, she had to remove herself from it
The recreation of self could only be done alone
It's never really over is it?
She will constantly add and take things away
All for what? For herself really
She will always change and remain the same
Trying to be better than what she is
If she can't improve herself,
Well she'd just have to kill herself, won't she?
I know this girl, sometimes too well other times not at all
She is everything and nothing that she wants to be
I suppose I should take responsibility for this girl that is me.