It's a bad habit but I can't seem to quit it and here I am again doing exactly what I said I wouldn't but do I really mean it of course not all I am is empty promises meaningless words careless tendencies repetitive words talking about sorry when that word is intended to mean I will stop I will fix this but it's all a lie humans suck all we do is lie we find solace in hurting ourselves and others what a waste
I want the comfort of drawing but what does that make me if I'm trying to stop the rest of you from doing it just another worthless hypocrite trying for a worthless cause, finishing last in this stupid fucking race I didn't sign up for, wowy wow wow who will reach it first who will get the solace the comfort of the pain and intuition to fix ourselves so many broken toys oh what to do we try to fix others when we're only barely fucking breathing we're all just dying on the ground dead corpses trying
To do more than what originally intended oh what's the use if no one will admit they're broke again with the masses the lies the death the mutiny towards one another what a stupid fucking game just running to our habits fault tendencies will only end in malice
YOU ARE READING
Hush
PoetryIt's poetry. The the tears that spill from my mouth it's the gold I bleed and the pain I drink
