Wednesday, September 16, 2015

done.

dead and empty are my eyes
once fixated on the prize
just out of grasp with my last breath
unachievable aim so twisted
it cut me like a blade
bleeding out my sides
every last drop of tear
fading into the night
a whisper of a memory of a dream
who was I once, so long ago
a name without a face
a face without a smile
the lips without a voice
the broken hearted dream
that lingers for awhile

on the one hand living seems so desirable 
on the other hand, leaving would be nice as well