Bleeding through hidden doors

I’ve never been tortured
By a presence of you
And I thought I once knew
The look in my eyes
But it was no surprise
When the mirror lied, again.

It depends on the days
And the days are dead.
But things have to go wrong
Like you once said
I’ve never been tortured
By a presence of you
But now I just don’t
Know what to do.

Days are empty
Like the bottles in this place
And I want to go to sleep
In many different ways.
I only know
How to put a show,
And I lie, so I’ll die
If I break hearts
And I don’t want you
To pick up those parts.

I’ve never been tortured
When you thought you gave hell
But the torture itself
Already knows me too well.

Goodbye.