Angry blood flows
From a hypocrite...

Standing here in this room
Of a thousand people...

The scars are fading
After four months they are almost gone...

You ask if I still love you
“Yes, more than death, you should already know...

The “gothic” girl you sit next to in math
Has old scars running up and down her left arm...

I broke the promise
I made a mistake...

“Carter,” her voice breaks through my sleep.
“Hmmm? You need something baby?” My voice is...

I can feel the wight
In your breath...

A blow to the back for the spot I left on a bowl-
It's what I deserve...

She stands with many others
On the canyon of empty loneliness...

Let’s start this with some counting
One, two, Three...

First I smell that horrid clone that you always...
so thick that I could taste it in my mouth...