Plastic Paper feeds us

Plastic Paper clothes us

But Plastic Paper leaves me empty

What more do you want, Plastic Paper?

I gave you my belongings

I gave you my time

Yet you consumed my mind

My friends agree with you, Plastic Paper

How prestigious you are

We save save save and hoard what we cannot afford

Yet I do not see how it is possible to glorify you, Plastic Paper

When all you did was make me blind

The weight of your last pressure stabilizes my soul

Makes me understand the danger of not contributing to the billion dollar war

You owe us your tastebuds

A hot mess of ice cream drips from an unfinished cone, giving me the simplicity of having something to own

I stare at the drain where my Plastic Paper has gone

I understand now that Plastic Paper was Paper Devil's spawn

Your wit is a smirk behind the curtain of drawn eyes and smiling faces

The seamstress can mend my soul but she will fail to mend what has been sewn into my eyes

I am bleeding

I can no longer keep up with everything I owe

But they still won't let me go.

You still owe us one more thing, Adrenaline Junky

I owe them my life

I’d sing to you if I knew the words to my own tunes

Yet now I am nothing more than a croaking voice to put in earbuds too

I wish they would tell me what I did wrong

Provoking me is silence and alienation for not keeping Devils in my pockets

I speak in hoping the world will understand

Only it fails too

Just like I do

We can choose how to use you, Paper Devil

We are not your control

No longer persuaded to keep up with a society that does not feel good enough in their own souls.

Plastic Paper may feed us

Plastic Paper may clothe us

But Plastic Paper is not our pass time

I ask of you not to place me into a coma made for Adrenaline Junkies.

And you Paper Devil, will not own mine.