i’ve got to many images and words in my own head a part of me

I want to talk to let you know But I see that you’re dealing, Barely that is, with your own shit I see it in your eyes, In the way you stand

The wind blows softly across the meadow carrying the whispers of tomorrow’s sorrows If you listen closely

Most of what i wright comes from inspiration from the world around me What others are

You sit in a corner and nobody sees the bloody tears running down your face For the pain you’ve

Have you ever seen the gleaming wight teeth floating by your head Or the glowing red eyes underneath your bed

A whisper fades on the evening wind along with the hope of tomorrows friend Yet there is a

The time passes by with the anquish of tears The pain and sarrow are

They always ask is the wight jacket comfy are the wight walls conferring And always I

I’ve probably had about ten shots now trying to drown out her memory We left under harsh words, tears, and shouts