Our minds are so morbidly scary
In bouts of silence and dark
That we can imagine death, destruction, blood, A SPARK.
Knives cutting holes in our paper-thin skin,
Kids throwing rocks till their brains turn pulpy,
Bridges rocking and creaking, skin hitting ice,
Smashing our souls on concrete..
It cures a hidden desire, worse than lust or need or want.
And on that note:
The world is turning
And with it, morbid minds.
Aug 14, 2020
Aug 14, 2020 at 2:45 AM UTC
Our minds are so morbidly scary
In bouts of silence and dark
That we can imagine death, destruction, blood, A SPARK.
Knives cutting holes in our paper-thin skin,
Kids throwing rocks till their brains turn pulpy,
Bridges rocking and creaking, skin hitting ice,
Smashing our souls on concrete..
It cures a hidden desire, worse than lust or need or want.
And on that note:
The world is turning
And with it, morbid minds.
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