𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺𝘀.

IV

With my eyes black and blue
because of the insomnia
and my body full of bruises,
with my hand Still shaking,
I grabbed your hand
and beg you to runaway,
To escape of everything
and Just disappear.
You can see how damaged I am,
I don't wanna go on this route anymore,
This is killing me more
when it's supposed that this will heal me.
If I've had the decision over my body
If I could just quit and runaway
But I'm afraid that I'm to ill
And a part of me says that
I will die if I escape
Another part of me says that
I'm already dying.
This is killing me.
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