People in plastic houses
throwing canned beans
and lowered expectations
my only hope
half turned away from me
my only love
preparing an exit
that would rip shards
of my glass heart
right out of my hands
and the blood falls
like miniature crystal balls
there is no grand secret
hidden behind my eyes
if I could see what
you think you see
maybe I would love me too.

These rows and rows of cannons
waiting to blast their words at me
a circular hole between my ribs
a trail of smoke telling picture stories
of plastic hearts and canned lies
that make this world all too real
there is no secret
I have no eyes
what this was
was never what it is
I hope you never really thought
we could work this way
the years you used as weapons
white knights, white lights, white lies
you bled this naive obsession
with escape
if I could see what
you think you see
I probably wouldn't love me either.