Whisperer

You play my nerves, like stings, all upside-down.

She feels like the longer she trusts someone the more she’s being used and turned against herself, like a puppet. The person controlling her motions controls it all.

Try to keep straight, my limbs are bonding now.

She feels tied up, stuck within her own body. She trying to stay calm and keep going, but the person can read her, tell what she’s thinking, and she doesn’t like it.

Since a few April’s ago, endless chase to send away this.

Since she’s met this person, nothing has been right. She’s been hopelessly trying to keep her life normal and send this thing away, but it’s nothing but an endless chase.

Tireless persistence of taste.

She’s tired but keeps trying, because she’s been through this before. But even in her persistence she doesn’t want to go through it again . With a touch of your words, I saw the devil, sneak between my fingers.

With this person talking to her and trying to convince her that her beliefs and thoughts are wrong, she saw herself begin to turn corrupt. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the fact that she is easily angered with this, she’s becoming someone she doesn’t want to be, even though she has to act that way to get anywhere.

Much too familiar.

This has happened before, but it was as big of a problem as before because she had people to back her up, but now she has no one

With a touch of your words, I’ve learned to reverse, but it’s gotten me nowhere.

With the person talking to her and trying to convince her that her beliefs and thought are wrong, she tried to fix herself before she went totally evil. Being the good girl isn’t doing anything to help her cause though, and not being mean and taking control isn’t helping at all.

A deep shade of horizon gold, the constellations remind me I am home.

She know she’s still on the right track because the sun is still rising and setting as always. Even if she hasn’t moved on or fixed anything other people have. She still home, she still has herself.

We were lit from the west our silhouettes, yet a sight of industrial-ness, as the silence wins over every word.

She’s remembering back. The sun sets in the west, another day has gone on and she’s still moving on, trying to go on with her life, our silhouettes being her shadow, but she’s remembering someone else who used to be with her. A sight of industrial-ness: things are changing, nothing is staying the same as it used to be. But she remembers that person who used to be with her, and she much prefers the silence then the words the person used to force into her mouth.

What am I supposed to think about wandering round inside-out?

She’s not really sure what to think, and at this moment kind of wants someone to tell her what to do, so that she doesn’t continuously wandering around with her feelings showing instead of her skin hiding the emotions she is really feeling in her brain.

Patterns don’t feel right, still speaking like you know what I’m all about.

The cycle she’s gotten herself into doesn’t satisfy her anymore. She’s tired of the same old stuff. That person doesn’t know anything about her anymore, and she’s ready to win over this person.