I would rather to tussle, dizzy upon my back in the last rays of the sun than to be cooped up with the thunderclouds of the mind as company. The cell that lasts for eternity with naught but a smile to keep me going.
The hiss of metal, the gurgle of pain as the night draws on through the endless brigade. Carry on Weary soldier the day is not done. The chair is not for the faint of heart. The rope is not for the wicked but the lonely soul of an aching heart.
Why do I see these things overplayed? Every white wall to be a trigger. Can I just close my eyes as the faint music fades while the hand holds me close, won't let me cave.
If just for once more I could see your smile, like the summer breeze, laughing. A fleeting moment stands between the supposed and the reality.
The hangman's noose still hangs in the flashing of the storm. Many hands have removed it and yet it continues to haunt my eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Spots
שיריםThe story of my life in the words I can express and for the moments I can't seem to speak.
