XL boy XS stage

Man of the year, of the day of the hour,
Revert to the boy when you lose all power,
Scenes seem scripted; new act, new page.
The boy wants to act big on a small stage.

Hope to flee the fool that follows you,
Hide from your shadow in shade,
Blame the blackened being beneath you,
Till dusk and its blinding cascade.

Stuttered lines a million times,
On this stage where the strings don't belong.
Classic choirs and things that inspire,
As the mouth doesn't move to the song,

Obligations hang from threads,
Severed ties or severed heads,
These strings they sew and seal the dead,
They wrap and warp the "guidelines".

Each chord that wraps will bind and blind,
Every layer will shield and save the soul.
Is darkness death? or the end of the show?
You're here because you lost control.

Beneath the Skin

Beneath my skin lies something else,
Twisted guts conflicted,
Ribboned knots around the neck of those who feel constricted.
Vengeance red amidst the shame,
Run their course and feed a flame.
Through veins more open than me,
Through parts more known than me,
Through people more sacred than me.

Beneath the skin creeps green with envy,
Flowers, weeds and flesh,
The amalgamation of the two is viewed as as something less.
Immolation of the chest,
These sprouts and cinders lay here; a mess.
Making scars more final than me,
Making lungs push harder than me,
Making peers more essential than me.

Beneath the skin runs water and metal,
Quench the steel to harden,
Use whats left to drown the stress and nourish this old garden.
Suffocation, grab the trees,
A nostalgic sense that you might freeze.
Missing scenes more tempered than me,
Missing futures much brighter than me,
Missing moments much bigger than me.

Beneath the skin becomes diluted,
A pallet as pale as ash,
I see black and white, i feel black and white,
But cannot live with either.
These scarlet streaks and baleful blues have all but washed away.