strategically spread across the room
painted with the blood and tears of yourself
hands broken, unable to be used to guide oneself
unable to find balance whilst still intoxicated
it's so cold here - but seems like you have become trapped
growing weary of this sight ...
it's too bright to open theses eyes
for you may atlas see your reflection
and the thing you hated most in this world;
what you've become.
No comments:
Post a Comment