• I use to write so easily

    Letters dripping from veins

    Falling off my fingertips


    I haven’t felt in so very long

    Drowning in sand

    Burning lungs

    Red eyes

    Fighting for something fleeting


    I fear that one day I will cut myself open just to bleed a book that will never be worth a dime

  • "memory taps a gun to your inner skull & demands you bring back the dead"