Eléanor

underneath the mask you've buried yourself into

it's coal-black

i am tired of the gulping that you do

every day a new face

what if i unscrew your own identity

wouldn't you guess there's nothing left of you ?

the quicksand of life drags us

down into the circle

one day. we might not catch you

i feel sorry for what you try to do

breaking others down. to try and to pursue

your own selfish interests

i am starting to get sick of you

whatever happened ever since you left

you make yourself and me look like fools