• jazzgard93 6w

    I buried myself in words, I've said too much.
    A mind absurd out of touch.
    I've filed thoughts in cabinets long...
    Then... I wronged you.

    It was stepping stones I took to cross,
    Wet foot prints dried up and lost.
    The grass isn't greener on the other side.
    Tides were tougher, Im high beside myself

    So I cradled hands upon your skin,
    Marked my spot, place in pinsĀ 
    The blood on my hands now running fresh.
    A beautiful fucked up mess.