Your eyes are useless and your souls all bent. Still you drag out your time, trying to figure out where your heart went. While it was broken and moaning, you found yourself in discontent. Finally realizing, the perfect day to die, just doesn’t exist yet…

You spooked your peers when you cut open your wrists. A thousand feet unable to carry you away from their judgmental fists. What a time to lay awake, as they call your dreams fake. Little do they know that you bleed, from far more places than they can see…

Ghosts in the shadows of your illegitimate mind. You try find solace, when your memories rewind. Take a drink and swallow down, the cracks and corners of your belligerent smile. No longer touching ground of life; your eye lids are soft, as your hands steady wrap ‘round the knife…

-HMG