I have anchors in my veins
And little red balloons
Tied up in my heart strings.
I put them there myself,
I keep chasing after wings,
But every feather singes
And sends me to the grave.
I sit like books upon my shelf,
What happened to the brave ones,
The prince-will-save-the-princess ones,
All the hero-gets-the-girl ones?
I stay inside my head,
I wear a mask to hide my face,
The bleeding circles you could trace.
I stay awake to steal the space;
I fear the night may take my place.