is it possible to feel more empty than yesterday?
and tomorrow is not yet here
but lying in this cold porcelain tub of desolation
feels like the last straw of life
just until i become something hollowed.
let the water run
let the water rise up
and swallow me
f i l l me
d
r
o
w n me
n/u/m/b me
and the coldness of it
scalds me more than the boiling water
marring my skin so terribly and beguilingly
it's a wonder i'm still alive.
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Dark and Beautiful
PoetrySometimes my thoughts and hand bleed so much poetry I can barely stop them from leaking onto the paper. But sometimes, too, my heart bleeds too much blood that I couldn't write poetry anymore.
