Stolen

91 19 2
                                    

Ice cold, river 

rapture bones

my lungs are closed, sewn

Tell me, why can't I breathe, tell me

why can't I swim

why is there so much sea, tell me

why can't I scream

why do I drown in my leather washed seat

staring at my silver blank screen 

writing my dreams, 

please,

tell me, why do I bleed 

from my hands, they gleam

coated in steal, stolen from me 

my life was mine to live and yet

you took that from me

all, from me

none left, for me,

and you cannot see, you dare not believe that

there was hope for me

this is what awaited me

tell me, 

tell me- 

ExistentWhere stories live. Discover now