sometimes i do things right, but mostly i disgust myself

i work my fingers to the bone. inventing a contradicting escape. pretty soon there will be nothing left but dust and lies. sell out your life or sell yourself short. i scream at the top of my lungs into the mirror, cursing my reflection. but i didn't know which tongue i was hearing. like a flower hidden beneath the burgandy cover of fall, my words lay down to die in peace. my heart is the easel for this compromise. the canvas drips, the walls bleed, and colors collide. meet me at the treetops, i'll lead you to the branches and leave you at the limb. the weight of this screenplay is too much to bare, but i'll go it alone. i am the assasin and the cold touch of pride and the barrel are all i will ever know. a rope descended from your hand when i deserved the sword from your mouth.