I'm a sinner, since I'm a liar A hardly describable swirling, sickening, stifling feeling Seething air in my lungs, and my diaphragm I holler "I'm fine!" What a lie.
I stare at the white, flawless lambs on my sacrificial alter, unclear about their place in life. How was it supposed to know that it would be scarred by something supposedly mightier than a sword?
For now it lay half finished stared at by me, a small girl with curious eyes. Pessimism stood close behind me, biting my neck and draining me of Blood red love and inspiration Shivery, sleety, snowy, stinging breaths of depression Caused my ideas to slip between my fingers.
She thought, "Sometimes I wish I could right my wrongs And fix all the broken hearts and evaporate the tears, But for now all I think I can do, Is write poems."