Crushed

You pick and choose the colors you assign to my halo

While my ribs are bursting open like volcanoes.

My worth is always equal to how much I lie for you,

After all that I did you still try to hide my truth.

I paint myself in gold, but you erase all my glory.

The more I obey, the more you twist my stories.

There is nowhere to escape, only pressure on my chest.

My lips are painted grey as you tell me to rest.

You crush my lungs between the tips of your fingers.

The sound cracks in half and the violence lingers.

You pick and choose the spots where you cut me open.

As I bleed out dry, they still look for a motive.

-JW