I sit with a screaming heart,
wailing through my veins.
Echoing to my mind,
rocking it with strength inside my head.
My heart forcing its wail through my throat,
but the keepers of my voice denies its access.
The sensation quickens my breathing,
as my eyes portal my mind for a suspect,
Raging around. Searching for clues.
Leaving no memory unturned.
I’m still waiting... Are you coming?
So many times I cried,
as my voice condensate to tears,
dripping my voice into the palms of my hands.
The ghostly drips run down my cheek,
leaving others oblivious to my sadness.
My eyes burning
from the intensity my voiced had to offer.
Stained red for hours.
Hurry up…
My body is your broom,
cleaning up messes from you.
Handled and order
which directions to go.
What’s mine, becomes yours,
what’s yours, stay yours.
Fool’s candles.
A flame that will never go out.
For this passion I say sorry,
to myself.
Finally you’re here.
I am forever lost,
floating in an infinite void
of confusion.
For you don’t do this to me.
It is I who do it to myself.
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