Home Sweet Home

The secrets underneath my skin,
an endless stream of life,
forced to the outside world
through crimson tears and watery eyes.

Truths hidden in the core of my soul,
where the black heart hides,
away from the cruel world,
yet feeling every single stab it takes.

Battered, broken en beaten,
the skin a graveyard of memories,
for all the world to see,
but even the literate cannot read its message.

Could I be the one deceiving myself,
telling myself these lies,
for truth is just a way to see things,
and my glasses might just be stained.

Could I really be that blind,
or is the world blinding itself,
so they do not have to see the truth,
that is hidden under their noses.

I cannot bare my own truth, the lies,
the world is a cruel place to live,
the world is a cruel place to die,
but still, we call it home sweet home.