jueves, 31 de enero de 2013
I should be crying, if I’m looking in the mirror and not seeing myself I should be crying.
I feel the pain, yet I’m so cemented outside I show no reaction.
I look around trying to find safety, I find darkness swallowing me.
I close my eyes, I pray for my soul to be cleaned of this guilt.
I feel those burning tears trying to breathe, but I’m holding back.
I feel weak, I know I’m weak. Yet I keep my strongest face on.
I see the danger, but like a fool I walk through it then wonder why I get bruised.
Back to being guilty again, I’m sick of this shameless game.
Seeing people walking around, holding guilt like a winning card.
Am I mad??? Or maybe its just guilt giving me illusions???
Like a coward hiding behind my words, I won’t do a thing – I can’t do anything -.
Like a coward writing my killer a poem, begging time to heal my wounds.
Letting guilt win this round; I’m guilty, Can’t deny it can’t turn time around.