Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 4:10 AM UTC
This doesn't feel like my skin
It feels like someone else's body that had my soul injected in
This brain may be mine, but it is a faulty depressed mess
filled with needless information in a constant state of duress
War torn memories of the girl I left
Anger still flowing through the canyons in my head
No ring no matter the beauty could satisfy her spite
No diamond of any size could make me good enough to love her for life
I slip out of this skin when I write
Slowly I shed the love I once held for a blackhole
I came to life the night our butterflies died
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