Devil Hours

Angel beside me but I got the devil in my head, angel in my bed but I got the devils Hands on my chest

My baby told me I was born an angel, but they only knew I lost my wings so long ago. He choked me with my own halo, call me an angel because I should be dead. You killed Me on a cold December night, with my blood in the snow with my broken halo

When I was a child, I thought I could talk to the angels, but I was only talking to the Devil. Devil calling, devil hours, So many devilish howls

What's it like inside such a fractured mind? Pieces and pieces of it, creeping into your Dulled eyes... Twisted perception of things as I lay in the night knowing something isn't Quite right with my mind and my mouth only feeds me lies, as my body decays into the Night. I was born sinful my father made me unholy, my mother believed in fate but that's Other tragic story for a different day

I'm trapped inside this hole I created on my own, I dug my own grave the day my daddy Told me it's okay that he touched me this way

Familiarity is nothing but traumatic nostalgia. I would like to look at my past & find one Good thing. All that happens though is my hands start to get cut up by the broken Pieces Of glass that my memory has become. I used to crave to be strong & numb: now All I Wish for is to be soft and young, soft and young