I often sit here and run my hands over the smooth shard of glass
that portrudes from my chest.
I feel it. Everyday. Everynight.
and wonder if someday i could yank it loose.
feel the pinch no more;
The pain of my heart as it warbles, trying to survive; cut in half.
I know i must keep one eye on the horizon, for hope ill see that day approach
If i look down, I know through the glass ill see you,
all that can be seen,
struck through my being,
and my chin will fall,
and my breath will shallow,
and my heart will
stop.
for you, in my head,
live
and all i feel,
all
is you
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 11:53 PM UTC
I often sit here and run my hands over the smooth shard of glass
that portrudes from my chest.
I feel it. Everyday. Everynight.
and wonder if someday i could yank it loose.
feel the pinch no more;
The pain of my heart as it warbles, trying to survive; cut in half.
I know i must keep one eye on the horizon, for hope ill see that day approach
If i look down, I know through the glass ill see you,
all that can be seen,
struck through my being,
and my chin will fall,
and my breath will shallow,
and my heart will
stop.
for you, in my head,
live
and all i feel,
all
is you
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