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
....
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