Are You Okay, Kiddo?

Our guise is that of an apparition

Enthralled in the vanity of self-worship

Our robe our crown

As much a part of us as the very marrow in our bones

We'll have you begging for your mother in the morning

(We grace you with our presence and then we curse you for your acceptance)

Your father is out

He's damn right he should be worried

They'll call you jane doe

One in a million

One and the same

One empty chamber

One less to blame

(This is a failing institution and I've failed to notice)

I've learned not to despise this sentiment

Complacency invokes atrophy's embrace

And so what if I can't leave this room?

That never stopped us before

(I've learned to forget my desires)