Tears are salty, bitter, pointless
I hate the felling they give me
I fell weak, blind, dead
So why do they keep falling from my eyes

The wind is a force
As is the sun
The light is gone
Banish all fun
We turned the world
Made it change
It looks so different
Fells so strange

The ticking of the clock is
in time
with the pattering of the rain
on the balcony outside.
I'm staring at the cold,
insensitive
but elegant, perfectly shaped
drops harshly hit the ground.
From my window,
I am divorced from the cold,
sitting on my bed under the sheets,
but almost wishing that
I was outside
where the rain could bury me
and wrap it's
inviting arms around me
and let me drown.

Cemetery trees shiver
in the snowy breeze,
and cover the graves
with their dead leaves.

Tombstones and bones
lying in the shallow earth,
remind the living that
it could always be worse.

My wrists still hurt from
the day you grabbed my arm
and my cuts opened up
underneath my sleeve.
I pulled away
but I didn't mention the pain
because how do you tell someone
who has never shed a drop of blood in
their life,
that every part of you is bleeding.