I’m on the bedOpening up woundsPulling out rocksCreating a monsoonBlack streaks down my fleshRunning longMy lungs are emptyGasping hardMy words are howlsThe pain cuts deepExposing hurtsShearing sheepI want to curlInto a ballLeave this behind meAct of fallAlien sensationWarm embraceHanding me tissuesBlowing my faceBalls of paperInside a bagMy outburst are nastyNo movie magic hadAt any momentCould happen againThank god I could cryThank god I could cry again.
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