I know something you don't think I do,
I know deep down that you feel the pain that I do.
No matter how many good days there are, there will be a bad day that crushes all the good.
I know that you know this, friend.
Can I call you that?
No, that's not what this is about.
This is about the sadness that I know you know you feel,
it's like sweet hands touching sour thorns.
Slowly corrupting your own soul.
You're slowly choking yourself to death with your very own hands.
It's all in your head.
It's all in my head.
You know something I don't think you do,
You know deep down that I feel the pain you do.
No matter how many good days there are,
there will be a bad day that crushes the good.
You know that I know this, friend.
Can you call me that?
No, that's not what this is about.
This is about the sadness that you know, I know I feel.
It's like sweet hands touching sour thorns,
slowly corrupting my own soul.
I'm slowly choking myself to death with my very own hands.
It's all in my head.
YOU ARE READING
The Trees Talk
PoetryThe trees talk, they know what goes through your mind. The trees, they scream. +previously Perfection and Deception+
