You scream urgency like an accident and emergency waiting room, like a person relapsing into addiction, because they pushed themselves too soon.
And there are claw marks in the soil, where you've tried to get to grips, with your inner turmoil.
And there's a danger in your voice, like a lost child waiting to be found, and you string sentences at a time but no sound, emits. As you sit in fits, of hysterics.
Danger, like racing cars and frightened cries, and there are holes in your back, formed by the lies, you've been subjected too. And i wonder if i could use them to carefully breathe, life back into you.
The life that you seem to have let slip through your finger tips, like dry sand, and there are wants and demands, taped to the pupils of your eyes, and i wonder if i get close enough, if i could see, if i could prize, them open.
The dreams and memories, before they turned stale and congealed in your veins, before they curled up and died, and left you entangled, in the remains.
And the valleys of your eyes, run wide and down deep, and when you weep, your tears fall heavier, than a ten tonne van, falling from unreachable heights.
And there are marks on your body, where you've lost the fights, the sleepless nights, with yourself. And you're a shadow of the man, you used to be, and even your shadow, has sought someone anew.
And your foundations are built on heartache and pain, and those little tear ducts in your eyes, they constantly rain. torrential down pours.
And there is hopelessness, embedded deep within your pours and despite the ongoing rain, you,you're in a draught, all the love you've showered others in means you've ran out, for yourself.
And your health, is a picture of cigarettes and late night drinks, old whiskey, poured down sinks.
And you're reaching the brink, the breaking point. But you quite like the sound, of broken plates and you greet with haste, the familiar taste of self destruction.
And there's a ghost, where you used to be, haunting the curves of  your smile, watching you all the while, as you destroy and defile, the cold skin, that stretches over your protruding bones.
This terror your living in, lures the wolves home, could start a thousand wars, and this battle your fighting, these revolving doors, inside of your mind, leave a carcus, a morsel, a shell, of yourself behind.
And your insides stick to the past, like double sided cello tape, and there are windchimes in your spine, counting down the time you wait, for freedom to meet you with open arms, and your arms, paint a picture of self harm, in bright red pen, and the ringing of alarms is renewed again and again.
And your heart on your sleeve, is clouded, and weaved, between fragile pastel pink scars, and the hesitation in your voice, jars any conversation, and you scream in frustration as we express your complications.
And you, you wish desperately, that you could be free, of those demons, the sin, for a new beginning.
And there's toxic in your lungs, and a noose around your neck,where you've hung your expectations too high,
And you're hanging by a thread, and the further you slip, the more knots you tie, in an attempt to buy time,
And you drink down each crime against yourself, with another bottle of wine, as you search and unwind, the mazes within your mind.
And you can see in the way you carry your frame, that you've been to the depths of hell and danced with the devil in vain, on many occasions,
And your eyes they tell tales wanders, of liquid sedation, as you squeeze into a nation, too small, too handle, too inexperienced, too dismantle, the train wreck, you see, every time you look intensely, at your reflection,
And your recollections of your past, are like shards of sharp glass,scattered between the seams of your life, and you, you batter the strife, with drug filled bombs, painful tongues and licks, of the kicks, you deny to be true, as you continue to fall through, reality in a clarity, smeared with drunken violence, and ear piercing silence.