Behind needle point eyes are long drawn out thoughts
They try to remember, then forget all that was lost
Each and every action is just another work of art
all these spoken words are poetry tearing us apart
There are no blank pages left and these entries are unclear
You can erase this mess, just make it all disappear
I've poured myself into these tired old words,
and images of myself have already started to blur
I have nothing left to hide.
Inside I’m dying, trying to say goodbye.
Each and every action is a long forgotten art
all these words are poetry for a troubled heart
I long for the day when I can be like you
throw water on our flames and just come to
bleach your thoughts and ease your mind
I wish I could also simply leave us behind
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