The aftershock hits me like a bullet through the back
I am dead inside, I used to counterfeit my laughter, now nothing
I was sure to smile inanely to myself in dissimulate optimism
And at those who have helped me fall into a self destructive cycle that will end me

False smiles turned into real rain upon my ripped-whole heart
As my mind drew closer to the obvious truth I cowered
Not from others, but from myself I hid, hating this phony life
Which I led, believing somewhere there was a place for me

Distress decreases as the paroxysm sears my life from my bones
Replacing it with a blackened scar of a shell that was I.
The weight of this pilgrimage to an unforseen end
Causes my skin to come undone, the reason for my unseen stigmata.