Thursday, February 10


Strings for my bed
And another story to get straight
Tapping out the melody
Trying to transcribe the voices in my head

Every day the white blade of sheer terror
Ripping through the muscles of my back

I can hear, everyone is crying
Never knew their names
I guess in the end it hasn’t mattered so much
I used to be human

Every day blackened hammers falling
And my life is cast high over hell.


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