Gaslight-lit

I am outside the door again, knocking... begging to be let in,
Belatedly I bite my tongue, 'Why did I have to say that?'
Detachment is a thing of rigrourous practise,
I held the magnifying lens of my love to that one soul,
That which is brittle and dry and combustible, this was all meant to burn,

Once upon a life my drawbridges were drawn, my moat was a cauldron bubbling machine steam,
Point is there was a line, point is I knew how to protect myself,
Point is I was not vulnerable, point is I was the queen of my shoddy castle of lichen,

Why did you coerce me to unfurl, why did you dig pitchforks and spades where you had no business?
Why did you make me believe that anything meant squat? You didn't need to, I had given you everything,
Maybe it's like a slasher movie, one that's embarrassingly bad - but you have to know how it ends, right?

Now you have mowed down all my walls, and I'm crying but you won't take my call,
'Episodes' you say after you've sunk your dagger to the hilt within my flesh,
Twist it again and tell me you love me, once again and tell me you'd do anything,
Tell me that I am crazy, tell me I am insane, tell me that it is grotesque,

I didn't think that you were the hurtful kind, so tell me what is my crime,
I am doing time, standing outside the door again...begging to be let in