My mind works the best when it forgets how to rest.
So Jesus turn my water to wine so I can forget the horrible things I've done.
Turn my tears to alcohol so I can drink up my sadness to hide the evidence that it existed.
No one needs to know that my bright smiling face is a mask I have to hang up to dry at the end of each night.
My smile attracts the happiest of souls but my eyes only see blue and grey.
Call my eyesight xray vision because I see through the bullshit thrown at me at every corner.
Oh dear, don't you dare say something you dont mean.
The sweat on your palms force drunken nights down my throat.
So Jesus break the bread that is my bones and leave me the hell alone so I can sleep here in the warm ditch of Satan's grip.
I can be forgiven, but forgiveness is scarce in the form of open arms and happy thoughts.
I turn to lovers, whose lies match their kiss and promises that break like glass on concrete.
There's a fine line between heaven and hell and that's where I want to be, but that's where the surface of earth is, and Satan's right hand man isn't allowed to step foot in the potential of a good time.
So I drain the oceans in my eyes and lay in silence shivering on a bed of dreams that have died with each passing night.
You gift a rose whose thorns slice my hands like knives and I'll ask you why.
Why? But you don't wait around to clean up the blood from my broken heart so I lay in it.
Hoping that I'll drown.
Let me drown.
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Why Don't I Write You A Poem
कविताI write poetry all the time to an empty audience. I don't expect posting it here to be any different but at least I'm putting my work out there.
