Ice Has Less Traction

Do you think the pieces of our shattered pasts would fit together to map out the intricate pattern that twists and turns into the path we followed to get here.

Watching the blue leak from your crystallized eyes, I wasn't surprised to see them a paler shade of grey.
But in my mind I'll remember them as a vibrant blue.

I know you wanted me to the one to saw everything will be alright.
But I've never been the type to say that it will all be okay. All I've ever had were demons to hold my hand.
And their grip was icy; they still numb me to this day.
I know it hard to see the world through shattered eyes, and I would really love to see the blue stop leaking from them.

I would let my demons hold you and console you.
But I don't want my devils to mold you and control you.
And I'd rather not see you turn out like me.

Why would angels want to taint their wings in people's acidic immoralities, anyway?
But demons are already stained, what's more acid to them.?

Please stop looking at me because I know you see a splintered mirror. I can't keep watching you get lost in every curves that intertwines with another distorted crack.
Can you see what's behind the serpentine of tangles or has it become to disfigured for  you to recognize the image behind the cracks.

I would let my demons hold you and console you.
But I know my devils will try to mold you and control.
Please don't make me see you turn out like me.