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literature
bleeding out sick blood leaves my (high and) dry
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Literature Text
No matter how many times
my fingers strum the chords
to Creep, I can’t
bleed out that feeling
through my callouses.
It’s an alone
that lives in my bones,
sings from the marrow
and rots away the rest, It’s
an alone that will cling
like dense fog til the end.
my fingers strum the chords
to Creep, I can’t
bleed out that feeling
through my callouses.
It’s an alone
that lives in my bones,
sings from the marrow
and rots away the rest, It’s
an alone that will cling
like dense fog til the end.
full- bleeding out the sick blood leaves my (high and) dry
© 2014 - 2024 dog-on-the-floor
Comments3
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i really love this. means a whole lot to me atm. (Creep just left me as numb as a paralyzed hand too...)
thank you.
(i'd like to believe that alone just has to be there...)
thank you.
(i'd like to believe that alone just has to be there...)