To live is so often to bleed and I bleed deeply my tongue stabs my bowels following a broken mind that my pills won't silence I could ask for more or take the hard, effective route and digest my brain But I blind myself, calling out a hollow question consuming the ashes while denying apathy To live is so often to lie, and I lie deeply
Not until my weakest moment will I admit to the havoc of my actions upon myself and begin to heal again