golden brown honeycomb encased with a black and blue ring enclosing it in its confined space
beaten and bruised from the nights never caught
keeping in from spilling out on to the canvas where the veins meet the eye
those light brown wood grains splinter into the suns reflection
throughout the years much blood, sweat and tears
no shadow, no self, just the cold hard sink
wondering when will it be the time for these eyes to be granted peace
these eyes are exhausted and sometimes it feels like every thinks that I'm the one that's lost it
i cant stand the pain staking glares and this stupid fucking mirror
all it ever does is make the pain feel realer
and now all i wanna do is hear the music
the time being these eyes closed, such a short lived memory
i tried sleeping with out ever finding me a remedy
but i still dreamed after i woke
i never stopped looking ahead
but why?
why does my life have to have a yesterday
it is what built me
why must it also hold me back?
9
ReplyDeleteDamn fabulous. See, when you're not totally lazy, you really do nice work.