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Dead Hearts
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VIII. Cold
Breathing.
Sometimes I barely feel alive.
And I suffocate.
Sinking.
Sometimes I keep it all inside.
And it adds more weight.
Bleeding
I've almost bled myself dry.
And I'm to blame.
Feeling
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There's no feeling I can describe.
There's nothing.
And there's no end in sight.
My thoughts are of better times.
And there's no end in sight.
Where are those better times?
Turn out that light.
I'm going on trial tonight.
Over and over and over and over again.
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