I light a candle to mimic the pain all the anguish and anger that's built up inside of the flame
I blow it out just to light it again
A manic depressive you're soon to forget
I sit in the dark in my room by myself
A bleeding heart in a jar on my shelf
The dust accumulates on the glass makes it hard to see
My view is absque from reality
I blow it off just to try and see clear but the dust in the air makes it hard to breath and I can't remember anything
Not your lips
Not your hair
Not the way you sing
Not the cool autumn air
Not the gentle breeze
Not the sun
Nor the moon
Nor the ceiling
I grip a picture held tight in my hands
there's a crack in the frame
I don't know who I am
Shattered memories
"Were these my friends?"
I feel like I'm choking on all my sins
The bleeding heart on the shelf is my enemy
I think that it is made up of the inner me
The candles getting low I think it replicates me
The darkness is growing so rapidly it thinks it found a home and now resides in me
- Author: Karsten Turrey ( Offline)
- Published: October 10th, 2017 01:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
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