I wake up sometimes with messages on my phone

But in real life.. They're not who I know

They're just someone helping me learn, and helping

me care for people who aren't making it through

Helping me see enough to get through too

So maybe I wouldn’t feel alone

So maybe the thorns would loosen around my throat

And maybe my heart would take a rest

But the messages begin to pile up

And I stand on a stage

Each one ignored becomes one more arrow

But yet the words are stolen before they could even drop

Off my tongue to slide back into nonexistence

Glass stepping stones

Just one wrong move and I’ll fall

But what is this?

I have fallen and the glass has already buried its claws into my face

But yet fate tortures me as I stand below them

To break their fall

And maybe I am grateful

But it’s lonely down here with the playroom empty

And all that’s left is corpses

My vision will wobble but once again I wake up

Unto the softness of the world, yet so sharp

Bloodied and broken

I pick the phone up