My thoughts bleed onto paper, as if my heart was stabbed.
Gushing forth, no bandage can stop it,
A chasm is what is left of a beating heart.
Voiceless laying dead on the ground.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
My thoughts bleed onto paper, as if my heart was stabbed.
Gushing forth, no bandage can stop it,
A chasm is what is left of a beating heart.
Voiceless laying dead on the ground.