like a used handkerchief
tired and ragged
maybe,just maybe
i'll throw her away
if she wont throw me away
ive become a patient
of my own asylum
classy,and Victorian
yet still cold and worn out
we all bleed the same
maybe,just maybe
ive tired from
the rings under my eyes
the blisters on my lips
dizzy head,a sore brain
bleeding thoughts and aching heart
maybe,just maybe
ive tired from
a torn stomach and throbbing limbs
restless hours
ticking, ticking
the smell so wretched,
something dripping from my lips
after "healing"like they say I've attempted
but why does feeding feel so bad?
maybe,just maybe
No comments:
Post a Comment