I probably should have known
That the bleeding would start again
That the wind shall push me down again
That the sunlight shall go away
That in the water I will drown
That I shall scream, only to be heard by no one
That the darkness will take over, every piece that I’ve managed to gather
That the red will stain again, every inch of healed pain
That the distance would separate me again, inch by inch from everyone
That the only rhythm I would hear is my death song being sung.
