Dry

Don’t trust hope
Don’t trust dreams
Don’t trust a whisper
     Nor a scream

Don’t feel love
Don’t feel pain
Don’t feel a thought
     For anything to gain

Like a knife cutting through some siren’s song,
I lock away, in the cold, waiting to be gone.

And this pain that bleeds,
And this heart that needs,
Of a cradle of warmth to carry through the night.
And this boy that grieves,
And this darkness that feeds,
On the isolation that comes from nary a touch.

Like a shiver rippling through some banshee’s cry,
I hide away, in the pain, waiting to be none.

Don’t feel hope
Don’t feel want
Don’t feel the desire
     That’s eating away

Don’t trust me
Don’t trust not
Don’t trust anything
     ’cept life will rot