Through my eyes you'll see pain, physical and mental, marching through my body still looking for a target. Aim and fire. Shot of no desire. Reload, recharge. Pull the trigger, and BAM goes the last beat of my breaking heart.
"We are the ghosts who see all things. We are the ones who creep into your dreams."
I am the girl with the aching soul. The one thats screams for help to take toll.
I can almost taste the blood that remains on my swollen tounge. The tounge that flicks irractionally, perceiving words not of mine but of its own.
I hold, between clamped hands, the life that once COULD BE that now CAN NOT. The story of what SHOULD BE now FORGOT.