The last poem.
This bird is singing to me.
I've lost everything I've grown to love, the harmony is breaking my heart. It sickens me to write. I missed the sunset tonight, they're stuck dancing across the sky as if they have a purpose in the night time. It's a clear sky tonight and it's giving me motivation to write what I'm convincing myself I don't feel. I can't see where I'm going, I'm flying blind just like they are. Struggling to find shelter from the rain so I'm laying in the grass with my wings soaked. Waiting for the sun to rise again so I can restart my day. Every time I let the sun shine on me it would leave like it was forcing me to stay alone in the dark. The warmth was never around for long, it was always showing me what I was lacking as I laid there cold covered in mud.
My reasons change the more I see, the more I see the more I wish I couldn't. I'm in love with the skin I've never felt and the heart I've yet to touch. She's done her job provoking me to feel emotions, to say words I'd never let escape my mouth again. I'd run until I was too tired to feel anything other than aching and exhaustion. I missed hurting for a reason, it's a whole new world to me and I never knew it was possible to hurt this much. It consoles me I could cause it in another body, that's possibly why I lie so much. Words don't mean anything till I make them, so I'm staining with you with ones that hurt the most. Particularly for my own self gratification, the need to see you hurt as much as I do. The pleasure I get from it. It feels just as good as it used too and I do it with no remorse. I've chose to hurt alone today, due to the fact I needed too because I'll probably never feel like this again so I'm attempting to enjoy the moments of emptiness and blank rage.
