there's a rhythm behind
these sunken eyes
thundering storms without a voice
where red ribbons are tied
nooses swing from the sky
gasps are lost in the dead of white noise
notice cracks in your skull
thoughts are foggy and dull
clouds will echo a slumbering plea
and until you've woken up
with your mouth sewn shut
you won't know what it's like to be me
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 5:20 AM UTC
there's a rhythm behind
these sunken eyes
thundering storms without a voice
where red ribbons are tied
nooses swing from the sky
gasps are lost in the dead of white noise
notice cracks in your skull
thoughts are foggy and dull
clouds will echo a slumbering plea
and until you've woken up
with your mouth sewn shut
you won't know what it's like to be me
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