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SPEAK TO ME
Speak the truth
wondering when the lives will be
Holding control of your heart
Standing in front of a fantasy
The world you loved becomes
A fragile memory
A memory of chaos
Choosing sides to figure out who lives and who dies
When will it all end
I cant stop thinking
Slit my wrist im bleeding
Infront of the lies you fed
Writing sacrifices of the simple life
The stories I tell break the fucking knife!!!
Im not alone
Your just like me
Im not alone
You just can't see
Carry on as you were
Telling the coroner your not sure
Bury me BURN MY LOVE INTO ASHES
OPEN THE CASKET AND LET ME BREATHE
OH PLEASE LET ME FREE
Untie the rope
Wondering when the oxygen will fade
Smelling the disturbed dirt.
Thats the end of me
LET ME OUT DON'T BURRY ME
LET ME SEE THE TRUTH YOU CANT FUCKING HURT ME NO U CAN'T FUCKING HURT ME NO MORE DON'T CARE
SURRENDER TO YOUR EGOTISTICAL SELF EXCLUSIVE STUPIDITY. END!!!!! END!!!!!
CATCH ME!!!!!!
Screamin' At The Man
That's what your poem postures--you're telling them off and brushing off, rebelling against a terrible "norm". You go! Answers show up around 60, are believe at 65, written down. oreoare for the Cassandra Symdrome. Lve with beng nbelieved. It's a writer's life you pietry seminstrates.
~S~