The words are washing away
Losing coherence
As the colors bleed from my rib cage
Leaving me grey and hollow
And the chill that follows
Gives me a sense of familiarity
Like an old friend come to play the part
When did we start flushing our dreams?
The knife's still in your hand
You try to wash me away
But I tend to stain
Tend to mark
When you try to rub me out
Can you truly erase a life?
Should you dare to try?
I'd like to know
Why the bell tolls
For me
The bell tolled for me
Death is often painful
I'm unfortunate to know
When your spirit is being torn away
When the last breath clings to your lips
When the light leaves your eyes
Life is but a breath from being over
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 7:23 PM UTC
The words are washing away
Losing coherence
As the colors bleed from my rib cage
Leaving me grey and hollow
And the chill that follows
Gives me a sense of familiarity
Like an old friend come to play the part
When did we start flushing our dreams?
The knife's still in your hand
You try to wash me away
But I tend to stain
Tend to mark
When you try to rub me out
Can you truly erase a life?
Should you dare to try?
I'd like to know
Why the bell tolls
For me
The bell tolled for me
Death is often painful
I'm unfortunate to know
When your spirit is being torn away
When the last breath clings to your lips
When the light leaves your eyes
Life is but a breath from being over
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