Thursday, March 13, 2014


My reflection 
Looking back at my complection
Through the cracked glass
Gazing at the past

Tearing my heart
Taking it apart
Little by little I slice
To pay the price 
Of my angony 

The voices in my head
Tell me I'm better off dead
My burden is bigger than I can hold
This pain and suffering is old

I want to breathe air
Not despaire
My bones sore and cold
My soul is sold
I'm coming home
Where the angles roam


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