I’m just a more miserable version of myself
and my pen is my weapon that it uses,
Leaking out the gas I consume
and fogging the paper with words of death.
It carves out my pain to a permanent grave,
doing the bleeding for me,
slashing across the page; ink runs,
tears run, but I
can’t run.
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 9:03 PM UTC
I’m just a more miserable version of myself
and my pen is my weapon that it uses,
Leaking out the gas I consume
and fogging the paper with words of death.
It carves out my pain to a permanent grave,
doing the bleeding for me,
slashing across the page; ink runs,
tears run, but I
can’t run.
