Being so dead
is an understatement
when the best you can do
is to walk out your door
scream it to hell
then give this life a little more
The black tears in my hand
are from the last four months alone
just trying to keep loving you
is what keeps me at home
Driving the pen into my arm
I can feel the ink stain
but it causes no harm
the words that I etch
will last less then i expect
cause even that won\'t hold emotions I have left
Cold hands whipe my face
as I think how
this damage is oh so unreplaced and poems and songs
can not make it change
Brittle nails tear through the walls trying to think back
at what it\'s like not to fall dampened cheeks
and hollow hearts
are where all of being lonely
tends to start
please don\'t let me fall apart.
