How Is It That I'm Still Here

Every step feels like a thousand
and the glory's still miles and miles away
B*****s, glares, and hungry stares
*last verse scribbled out*
Every curse feels like my personal hell
and my saviors are elusive and fleeting
Flashing lights and the bloody fights
I'd take it all for the public's greeting
Every wasted soul feels like another blow
and the noises and the voices screaming, "Her bloody hands!"
stitches and seams and all of my dreams
Wishing for the moon and half-melted crayons