Curse

Between anxiety and fear

There is a strange feeling

Of wanting to live a memory that I have not yet created

That's why my life happens this way

Well I don't know if I die tonight

Young and condemned

That he keeps cutting his arm

I feel like I've betrayed myself

Well these cuts don't mean anything

With tears flooding the room

If I see the gray sky

If I feel the cold wind

If the past mixes with my present

Can I cry again?

Surrounded by crows

While I long for those memories

Between roses and thorns

Your eyes he will see again

A new opportunity

A bloody sparrow

The dead parade

Try to hold back your tears

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To the blind eyes that appreciate the night

The truth I must bring out

Breathe sour cigarette smoke

To the bloody and unbandaged arm

Crimson thread that unites two fuckers

Guitar string surrounding my wrist

They don't know

I'll find a way to cope

Feelings that I don't understand

I'm young and I ruined everything

I wish I wasn't quoting a song

Result of my lack of inspiration

This poem is a curse

-Burn!