If i cryed a tear,
for every time I,
Wanted to end,
it all, I'd be,
drowning, Drowning,
in a river, Of tears,
that once ran, down,
from my swollen, face,
from my puffy eyes,
Drip, Drip, Drip to the
already wet floor.
But i can't cry, for the
wounds are already there,
cut and opened, again and
again, and now the blood,
flows with ease not to stop,
tangled and teased. For my,
eyes are dry, I haven't cryied,
for months, years and months,
maybe days, for my eyes are dry,
they've closed and locked away,
the cells that are now dry, that,
once held a million tears, all cryed,
away, no emotion left to show, no,
pain to let flow, for the grave is the,
safest place in this world. And that is,
WHERE I LAY. |
