Ballad Of My Brain > Poetry

The Sound

The empty glass,

And the sinking ship,

Everything is slipping from my grasp,

Grains of sand falling through my fingers,

Escaping my touch,

I want it all back,

Handcuff my thoughts to a radiatior,

Kidnap the sun and keep it in a jar,

Just for me,

I'm living inside dead skin,

Flaking away,

Leaving me defenceless,

I don't want you to look at me anymore,

I catch fire when those eyes catch mine,

Stop playing hide and seak,

Don't you get that I don't want to be found,

I just wanna listen to the sound.