Into my skin the words on nonsense are etched

Peel off this husk you call my skin,

From when you say the bullshit, you don't know where to begin.

When do you feel like a saint?

When you make me  cry for days on end?

Fuck the little things that are in the beginning.

When do you take this protoplasm, and rip it into shreds.

In this house of cross and bleeding,

You are not the god i intended for,

You are far more then I bargined for.

How dare you try to, kill me through this.

Cracking open this souless vessel no more,

Can be wrote in such a painful bliss.

She is dead to everyone...

Dont you wish you had loved her while it lasted

All my faith is gone you think I couldn't find it

Can't write on this cracked protoplasm anymore

Pieces falling down shattered, nothing behind it

View poeticdevastation's Full Portfolio