Drinking from the fount
The sweet syrup pouring down my throat
I'm choking on the kindness
The thoughtful thoughtless thoughts
The gentle words that caress
Rubbing salt into the wound
You think you know who I am and
You think you know what I'm going through but
You know nothing.
Nothing at all.
The constant stabbing in my chest the
Broken pieces of my words and
All the hard work that I'm not sure is
Worth it.
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the pain you see written
On my face, in the tension curling
My hands, the shards that slice them up
The blood that runs down, drip
Drip, dripping from the heart that has been rip,
Rip, ripped from my chest
The holes blown in my brain from the countless
Bullets that stream from the gun in
Your hands that hold the screams of millions
Trapped by the kindness that pours from
Your lips.
They drank from the fount.
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 9:26 AM UTC
Drinking from the fount
The sweet syrup pouring down my throat
I'm choking on the kindness
The thoughtful thoughtless thoughts
The gentle words that caress
Rubbing salt into the wound
You think you know who I am and
You think you know what I'm going through but
You know nothing.
Nothing at all.
The constant stabbing in my chest the
Broken pieces of my words and
All the hard work that I'm not sure is
Worth it.
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the pain you see written
On my face, in the tension curling
My hands, the shards that slice them up
The blood that runs down, drip
Drip, dripping from the heart that has been rip,
Rip, ripped from my chest
The holes blown in my brain from the countless
Bullets that stream from the gun in
Your hands that hold the screams of millions
Trapped by the kindness that pours from
Your lips.
They drank from the fount.
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