first
Look into my eyes. Do they look as dead as I feel? Can you see what you’ve made of me? How you kill every breath I take, ripping it from me while you stab my heart over and over til all that’s left is the excruciatingly voidness that curses through my transparent veins.
Look into my heart. Is it as silent as I am? Or does it still fight against your hands, struggling against your cold grasp that keeps trying to steal its beats away.
All around me is darkness. Nothing breathes and nothing moves. What have you done to me? Do you loath me so much you can’t stop killing me? Nothing makes sense any more. All I want is to see you, to hear you. I’d give all up just to smell your scent one last time while I walk down the street; to feel your arms around me while I drown alone in my tears.
And still, I can’t feel any more. There’s no anxiety, no fear, no ambition; only blurs, dots and spots that feel like nothing, tastes like nothing and smells like nothing.
Is this what broken means?
Look into my heart. Is it as silent as I am? Or does it still fight against your hands, struggling against your cold grasp that keeps trying to steal its beats away.
All around me is darkness. Nothing breathes and nothing moves. What have you done to me? Do you loath me so much you can’t stop killing me? Nothing makes sense any more. All I want is to see you, to hear you. I’d give all up just to smell your scent one last time while I walk down the street; to feel your arms around me while I drown alone in my tears.
And still, I can’t feel any more. There’s no anxiety, no fear, no ambition; only blurs, dots and spots that feel like nothing, tastes like nothing and smells like nothing.
Is this what broken means?