One
Two
Three
Four
This soul goes back and forth
Stumbling, trembling
On the floor
Feels like this body has dead
Thousand times in a row
Maybe it was the fault of self
Or
Maybe this was the plan, you made
Destroyed, the destroyer
Hurt, the hustler
Loved, the player
who started the game
Now gonna play it hard
Till i win yet gonna make it worse
To let you lose it bad
YOU ARE READING
The words, I bleed. (Rks)
PoetryAn ongoing journey of unsaid words. See how they bleed through small letters. ᎪᏞᏞ ᎡᏆᏩᎻᎢᏚ ᎡᎬᏚᎬᎡᏙᎬᎠ - ⓒIwouldfall. {Rks}
