Eating away at me,
Digging into my flesh,
And grinding down my bones,
It festers inside of me.

Slowly it feeds,
Leaving me feeling absent;
Amongst my own emotions.

Its to deep inside,
For me to cut away at.
Leaving me staring off,
Trying to go to space in my mind,
Because the fog isn't as frighten as the deep,
Imbibed emotion.

Left sitting for days,
Waiting for something,
To end this hopelessness that has made home,
In my hollow cage which is my body.

I don’t understand,
And yet I do.
The clover is considered lucky,
I guess I need one to help me through,
I am blue and that is sad,
But the sky is blue is the sky sad?
I wear my raincoat to avoid the water,
And yet I cleanse my sorrows in a the wet embrace of a shower,
They wash away and run down the drain,
*A small weight off my back so I don’t waste away.