You may not know it...
But...
When you and I first met they had me on bed rest...
I remember the room being cold with nothing to...
A soft broken whisper,
Too fragile for ears...
You blanket me and refuse to leave
So rude and unwelcome...
Tactility is nearly lost; exploring this wall
this plain white wall where hangers once pierced...
At times I would overdose, with the
bane of my life I would...
I would like to talk to someone,
not on any topic...
The inkless pen that lays before me now,
Has left it's Mark upon my crumbled page...
That heavy feeling...
As if your chest becomes a vacuum...
Shrouded by darkness
I want to grab her hand...
The bell, it tolls a deathly ringing chime,
It echoes though the jagged hills I tread...
She'll do what she's has to in order to get by...
She isn't sure about what's really anymore. So...