puncture my soul.
slide your blades across me.
numb to bitterness.
no need to save me.
uncut eyes save herself.
make sence?
of writing or of my life.
i write the way my mind processes.
unfinished line, along with unfinished chapters.
how quickly does a puzzle ever complete?
out of mind i have the world packed.
i`m ready to climb out, into the sun.
watch where my feet drag me.
all i can be is her, the girl staring at me in the mirror.
sorry for the displeasing smurks, and the harsh words thrown.
my car only crashes in mind.
remove my conciense.
then again, when did i ever have one.
sorrys flow easily when in retrospect they never had meanings attached.
depressed, no.
not the least bit.
just always a deep thinker.
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