Poetry written by me obviously. I still try sometimes. Life gets hard. Hobbies expand. Words lose their meaning after enough time spent struggling to speak.
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Phd in bathroom surgery
Fever
Flames pouring through my veins
The infection of self destruction calls me to you
Burning and afraid
I'm weak. Saline solution drowning me
In inability
I'm torn open
My barriers are too weak
I'm scared.
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