I’m sleepless and threatening. Eyes like smoldering fire and broken hopes. I’m lost again. Lost in my own wandering heart. Afraid of those things that lurk within.
I’m sightless. Meaning wrenched from my splintered finger tips and words taken out with my tongue. Mutilated are my passions from too many false whispers cutting me apart.
I’m less than a shell. Less than a vague smoke. What is just a breath before nothing? Because that’s what I’ve become.