Who's there?
Who's there...
I see hell
in your eyes, yet they...
I held the knife,
Away from myself...
Banging on the cobwebbed door,
Endangered voices you can't ignore...
The pain it takes me to a place
where i can rest...
Pages of insecurities watercolor roads of chalked...
Distancing our love between broken color of...
It spreads though out my weary mind
Infected with his deadly love...
How my eyes now long to witness,
how the breeze can stir the dust...
Doesn't every poet want it to be so?
Be in league with Emily or Thoreau...
My heart, on a platter before you
Pain I have, I wish you knew...
So here within the warm bath
I lie...
I run like I’m racing a bullet,
As tears blind my eyes and choke in my gullet...