Back From The Dead
As I sew up my heart
The crises of love scorned
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
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
Copyright © Penn Kname | Year Posted 2010