Dying thoughts in a whisple space,
thoughts tied up an exclusively exist,
a heart beat dying slowly in its place,
an a ever thirst for a bloody kiss.
Twirl and swivle,
dash and crush,
it was not even a big deal,
but a mind that always last.
Dirty to its touch,
something to keep you quiet in thought,
hitting you like you werent worth anything,
it hurts like bones being crushed,
a pain to increase with little brought.
Punch as hard as you can,
till you bleed endlessly,
see if your rough skin has torn that tan,
an image your self so invisibly.
Your worthless so punch the mirror,
till it breaks with tiny cracks,
an see your reflection dull near,
the unspeacil you breka and falls dead on the floors back.
