Perfume For Corpses

You can’t bejewel my mood,
Or glitter bomb my experience.
For my inner darkness consumes,
That turns love to violence.

You can’t wash away what’s permanent,
Or paint over to hide the cracks,
For my temperament reacts,
Like some uncontrollable experiment.

You can’t fix what you can’t see is broken,
Or use glue or tape to build a foundation,
For my trauma corrodes,
The attempts towards betterment.

You can make a diamond from coal.
Only if it can handle the pressure.
But my hearts already been crushed,
Becoming nothing more than sediment.