Dig claws into flesh, into bone
As you tear me apart from inside.
Jagged fingers grasping for gold
In a bloody, secret universe.
Tear free tendrils and tendons
To tie to your expectations,
Exerting control over a life unclear;
Puppeteer me and steer me
Away from this fear.
Rip at my cords and claim my fame
As they tug at my will to resist.
Pulling on my private desires,
Taking control over carefree contempt
To caress with your sweet strings of pain.
Your audience awaits –
All those people I hate;
Rabid and ravenous, too long starved
Of access to my insides.
Tear at my chains till they bleed,
As I dance to your tune;
Lowered on stage, hanging from heartstrings
That snap and reform under the weight
Of my mannequin masochism.
Mouth moves to your will,
Imprisoned by words imposed
That expose the truth through your song;
Is the voice really yours, was it mine all along?
C H Mackie 