Like A Termite To A Living Doll

There's no bruises on my knuckles;
No holes in the wall;
Yet I can feel the blood dripping down my hands;
I can feel myself start to fall.

There's not a single hook in my skin;
No hands up above me;
Yet I can feel you controlling my moves;
I can feel you tell my story.

No; it's not okay; but with you around it gets better.
No; I'm not alright; but with you I feel lighter.
You're crawling in my body;
In my heart; in my head.
You've got a parasitic journey;
And won't stop until I'm dead.

There's nothing on my body;
No bugs to be found;
Yet I can feel and hear the scratching;
I can see them on the ground.

There's not a single person in my room;
No voice to be heard.
Yet I can listen to them whispering to me;
I can feel their breath start to burn.

No it's not okay; but with your drug I feel better.
No; I'm not alright; but with your disease I feel lighter.
You're crawling in my body;
In my head; in my heart.
You've got a parasitic journey;
And simply stated; it's just a start.

No bruises; no hooks.
No bugs; no voices;
Tell me what's wrong with me then;
Why I'm making these choices.
No bruises; no hooks.
No bugs; and no voices.
I know you're still there.
Making all of those noises.
Just go.