The page so fuzzy,
Pen marks blury,
After a glass of red,
Swigged down to forget,
About the reality.
Numbs the memory,
Until i hear that voice;
Burns inside,
Like an unripe fruit - decaying,
Every night.
Bitter in taste,
Stains my lips a purple red,
Runs down my throat,
As i prepare,
For my emotions to swell.
Leaving my mind in bits,
Pieces set apart,
To interlink and
Form tomorrows thoughts.
Knocking me out
To another world
- Of confusion.
Worst than the last.
I sleep...
