Here,
Let me cut my skin,
Let my words flow from the wound
In stinted stanzas,
Faux sentences.
I can pour it all into these,
Heart, soul,
Body, mind,
And yet my words will echo into emptiness
Meaningless shouting into an indifferent sea of voices.
These words, they've all been written
These letters, used infinitely before
So here, my friend
Let me cut my skin,
And bleed my worthless words
Into your beautiful, elaborate mind.
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
Here,
Let me cut my skin,
Let my words flow from the wound
In stinted stanzas,
Faux sentences.
I can pour it all into these,
Heart, soul,
Body, mind,
And yet my words will echo into emptiness
Meaningless shouting into an indifferent sea of voices.
These words, they've all been written
These letters, used infinitely before
So here, my friend
Let me cut my skin,
And bleed my worthless words
Into your beautiful, elaborate mind.
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