• hmg101p 11w

    Etch a sketch, of my broken mind. Highlighted, just like these black and white lines. But somewhere inside of my grey are odd thoughts. Like counting stars backwards, without the need for clocks. Kiss my wrists as they bleed out insane. Lay with me in the burning fields, our bodies bloodied and slain. Let's hide our madness in the crevasses of scorn. Our wound up masks; unkempt, dirty and worn. My life is built up of bruises; courtesy of a former lover's truces. Come leave your memoirs on my bones to linger. Ah, life is a resurrection of souls and demons, rubbing holes in my writing finger...

    -HMG