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Until you tugged my strings,
sending me into a dance
only meant for an audience.
there's a knot in one of the strings.
You use the tips of your fingernails, but it escapes your touch,
just like I wish that I could.
imperfection, and you cut off the string
that once bound us together, and I'm suffering
as pain like cruel fire burns away my thread.
flashes into night, and I can still hear the sizzle of the spark
that lit my string and tore us apart
seam by seam, until I could no longer breathe.
am your marionette,
dancing through a tangle of strings just to meet your demands,
choking on the smoke of our past, cringing at my twisted fabric.
you take me back again?
I'll tie my strings together; I can make ends meet!
But, to you... I guess that I seem obsolete.
careful, because my wood is splintering.
Under your unforgiving touch, it's crackling.
Just let me go. For once.
is no longer a word, and once again,
I fall limp to your touch
as I feel another tug on my strings.
is infinite for you.
Like my screams
in which seem to please you.
remain standing... is my fault?
But the thought that I'm a servant is all wrong.
I'm not your pawn; I'm not a part of this cult.
Let my dead, soulless body float upon the sea.
thought that by cutting my strings, I'd be useless.
I'm left to pick up my own pieces; I'm no longer your marionette.
Now I can tug the strings that I've tied, and now I...