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nails

its nights like these

where i bite me nails

thill they

bleed

i didn't choose

now to be alone

but i guess

its better than

having to pretend

the fun

nails in my coffin

i guess

they are

each of these nights

how much gold

did you trade

for this ****** coffin?

but ill just feed

my sadness

with burning

bitter coffee

and less sleep

so i don't have

to poison

those i love

with that

sadness

but i guess they

decided on a

cure instead

a cure to my

sadness that

is no me

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Written by

emma-e-jones

Published: Oct 12, 2013
LinesWords: 3395

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