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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Bled Dry I get so tired , imminent blindness grows and My eyes grow heavy, I am like the walking dead, The sun light hurts me so Burns me to a color I despise Mars my skin The light illuminates my imperfections Inside out My walls are my tomb The lovely warmth off its darkness holding me Keeping me safe I want to stay there for an eternity To quiet the rat race in my head To stop the questions The demands To quiet myself Sshh Darkness is the most soothing thing I feel drained I feel as if the passion as been has been bled from my veins As if I myself have this time, Taken a figurative blade to my soul And the core off me is bleeding dry... I look around at were I am What am I doing And I want to shed my skin And run Is this me now? Is this who I have become? A shell off who I wanted to be And everybody elses ideal... Too much noise, Too much noise And no one understands No one will shut up! And listen When I try to speak my voice cracks And the tears flow, I want to fly I want to see beauty and create it I want to give hope back But.. How can I if I have only a dram left off my own? To late to late Comings and goings And all that matters in this world is the clatter off coins and folding off notes And people push and push And my blood drains And my skin grows thinner And all there is a white noise I want my darkness...
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