Every day it becomes harder,
So less and less I try...
Age one:
A beautiful baby lies there and cries...
Far from my best, but we all have to just write...
Alone in the attic window I sit,
Crouched down, nearly in the fetal position...
Sinking lower into this numbness
i don't think i can clean these stains...
I'm cutting away
Every last hope...
She was elegance
Waiting to be loved...
I lay near my phone,
waiting to hear it ring...
One thing I've learnt,
From living the life that I do...
So here i go again,
writing another...
Breathing through the pain
I lie down in the rain...
Hoping theres something inside me thats still sane
I need to feel relief that Ive come clean...