Victims of fiction

I feel sick to my stomach
All because I've done shit

Picking up the pieces
Is like mental relief
Such as victims
Of fiction

Cry pain
To gain nothing
Like some type
Of suction
Pulling all of me apart
Drowning my sanity

Slowly evil souls
Have Devoured
Every inch
Of all my power
Egotistical manic thought
Crowd my every ability
To see through the truth

Because loose memories
Float like melodies
To capture my dreams

And all bandits
Have run away
With the truth