Note by the sink, no time to think,
Blood on my hands, fast asleep-
Eyes that don't shine, in the light,
I was never okay, but you were always alright-
There's nothing wrong,
They all said-
but I hear you,
Its in my head-
There's nothing wrong,
You're just dead-
I'll see you soon,
with this pistol against my head.
ESTÀS LLEGINT
My Sweet Grave Digger
PoesiaI use to have an anger so big, it could fill up any house. Poems from the garage attic.
