To tell the truth is to be a danger in other people's eyes.
My breath comes in short spurts.
My lungs ache for relief.
My heart's nothing more than an erattic heart beat.
My legs nothing but liquid that refuses to carry me.
My eyes blind, seeing nothing.
I grip the air ahead, and feel nothing.
I try to move ahead, but fall.
I inhale, just to feel no air.
I'm sufficating.
I'm falling.
I'm surley dying.
This is what you've reduced me to.
View User's Journal
|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||
Who's that hanging from the gallow tree?
His eyes are hollow but he looks like me.
Who's that swinging from the gallow tree?
Up jumped The Devil and he took my soul from me.