Internal Bleeding

Like a disease hidden inside. Living its own life, no physical signs, no bleeding outside. The pain is well hidden, Feeds on things that can’t be forgotten. Running threw veins with no traces, Growing with pains and old faces. It starts in the morning, Builds up thru the day. Paving the surface of misleading ways. As night kills the day it erases, Positive fought and warm places. The self imposed curfew, The pain that’s self chosen. The positive fought and the joy is still frozen. The cravings for good is almost gone. Just feeling still lingers, as life goes on for too long.