Back From the Dead

As I sew up my heart It starts.. The crises of love scorned Its torn.. The scars on my slain wrists.. The bruises on my broken fist.. The burn of an unsuccessful rope around my neck.. I race with death only to lose by an inch.. The harder I train.. The more in vein.. The lonely pain that sleeps with fish I wish I wish.. The more I cry in kindness she will die The depth of bloodless sighs I feel closer to the sky I guess that's the same As every pain I'm no different but all the same.. The race against my finish line of cocaine I will win the race and cross the tape That death holds for my place ....