Is this supposed to be lived?
If it is, am I the one to live this?
So mutable I am, a paradox
Thoughts of the past feeding nothing
No more warmness left inside
Don't need a word, if it's not just mine
Something noone else would hear,
A precious gift I'll never have
A smile inside that rots in depression
A path rust waiting for a walker
Not me, not anymore.
Can't avoid becoming so numb
It's what I wanted or deserved...
You can keep carving my flesh
I feel no regrets!
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario
ausente(s) presente(s)...