The Art of Bleeding

[peterbrown]

Violent silence
Still born dreams
Nothing is
As it seems
Mortality hung
By the chimney
With care
Columbian neck tie
Deaths stench in the air
Dead to me now
Was dead to me then
Force facing “love”
Won’t happen again
No tear soaked sheets
No cries in my sleep
I silenced the woes
I hear not a peep
Not gasping for air
Nor grasping at life
It’s amazing the things
You can do with a knife