4 weeks and this is not at an end.
You're not yourself, haven't been in months.
You might never be again.
Plaster over the scar on your forehead.
Staple shut your eyelids, tear off your eyelashes.
You might never wanna see me again.
The curve of your knuckles, the part of your hair,
I watch myself burn and turn to gold again.
Stay in bed, dreaming of fresh rose and lemon.
Play Russian Roulette with the pills in mom's cabinet.
You're not clean, haven't been in months.
You might never be again.