Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Asymmetric Grave

Cut me into little pieces, and make me feel each slice.
Tear up my body
But I'm not even here.
Not real enough to feel the pain of soul
I became immune
To all that you fear.
Break me, remake me, notice that I don't care.
For everything you've done
I've already cried.
And when you're alone with the shards of me
You'll know when you'd started
I'd already died.

No comments:

Post a Comment