Trackmarks

What would it mean,
if I told you what I've seen.
Nothing in my life's gone right,
my mother's seen the light.

Trackmarks in the night,
with no help in sight.
Flashing images torn apart,
picture-perfect dirty art.

Shot of adrenaline to the heart,
"thank god, I thought it'd never start."
Who's to blame for this mess?
"Don't know. Me, I guess."

Three babies left to stress,
"Where's mommy? Confess!"
Is all that's left dirty trackmarks?
Just feed us to the sharks.