Patterns

Patterns in the carpet
I was sinking
Into the floor
I was dreaming of pavement and wet skin
Ah-ah
But I didn't know what was coming.

Patterns in my brain
I was sinking
Into a hole
I was bleeding out.
Smashing my head against the cabinets,
It left a bruise I hoped you'd notice.

And I tried so hard to carve our names
Into that tree at the cemetery
But the knife slipped.
And I cut myself pretty deep,
Paused for a second and watched as it started to bleed.
But now there's no scar
To remind me how it felt when I was alive.

Now I'm spending my time pretending I'm fine.
But I've got secret footage of the future that says otherwise.