It's Been Awhile

Dreaming of a place that draws the poison forth from the wound... This place is spoken only in whisper form. Only in the minds eye. Taken for granted and tossed about like tattered clothes. This place takes that from which he would derive pleasure. Nice. Taken not from him by the hand that deals death, but that deals life. Breathe in that which would kill you, these fumes are friends now. Feel the burn inside the lung and cough out blood. This is clean. Writing something new, something fresh, something imperfect. Trying to get it right, can't seem to concentrate. Must be happy