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MosaicPoems
I'm excavating your ribcage Looking for answers Of when things went wrong I'm no mathematician or buddhist priest But I'm really good at French toast And overcomplicating myself I convinced my coworkers I'm a vampire Even though I'm vegetarian The only kind of bloodlust I have Is for loggers (They took away my Mother nature) I'm also really good at being over-dramatic In a non serious way You're wearing broken ankles on your wrists How did those get there?                                                                      Did you walk all over me                                                                      With your hands                                                                      Around my neck Your hands were the noose that will pull the trigger and make me swallow all those sleeping pills so that people realize my pillows aren't made from the ocean                                                                       You are that critical blow, K.O.,                                                                        last breath,                                                                       That push over the edge                                               I'm really good at letting my Scars be neon flashing lights and/or ants that are crawling,biting, poisoning my memories Letting my past,                     Make me a Ghost of Today I'm excavating your ribcage And everything checks out But I think you left your heart at the train station
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
Living Ghost
I'm excavating your ribcage Looking for answers Of when things went wrong I'm no mathematician or buddhist priest But I'm really good at French toast And overcomplicating myself I convinced my coworkers I'm a vampire Even though I'm vegetarian The only kind of bloodlust I have Is for loggers (They took away my Mother nature) I'm also really good at being over-dramatic In a non serious way You're wearing broken ankles on your wrists How did those get there?                                                                      Did you walk all over me                                                                      With your hands                                                                      Around my neck Your hands were the noose that will pull the trigger and make me swallow all those sleeping pills so that people realize my pillows aren't made from the ocean                                                                       You are that critical blow, K.O.,                                                                        last breath,                                                                       That push over the edge                                               I'm really good at letting my Scars be neon flashing lights and/or ants that are crawling,biting, poisoning my memories Letting my past,                     Make me a Ghost of Today I'm excavating your ribcage And everything checks out But I think you left your heart at the train station
You didn't even say goodbye
#love#broken#future#hope#loss#me#strong#pieces#stronger#strongest
Mosaic
Written by
Mosaic
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
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