The water is clear
But your wrists are stained red...
I’ve got a hard surface,
Live at the bottom of the sea...
How unsettling it can be,
To listen to those quiet moments...
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...
Here it sits inside of me
Eating at my sanity...
You.
That beautiful being that you are...
That heavy feeling...
As if your chest becomes a vacuum...
Anchored upon bare terra firmA
Drowned in a place of desolateD...
I'm still searching,
Beyond those quiet moments...
this darkness looms over me
traps me here...
Behind the smile that's painted on her face,
Remains a girl, who tries so hard to breathe...