Just like the craters of the moon
I leave no impact
The ones left on me are timelines leaving their historical mark on me
Those visible marks become one with me instead of who I fought to be
Nobody cares about the hurt I took to save face
You could careless about our perfect orbit
It was careless of me to make you my whole world
I guess I understand why they call it comet suicide
Anyone who gets fooled by your magnetic grace
Always ends in fire
Go on with your grace and lite me up
YOU ARE READING
Before I Blackout
PoetryMy best work is done when I'm on the edge of blacking out, when you finally stop trying to pretend you have a grip on what runs though your mind, you should try writing with your eyes half closed and your mind wide open. This may be an on going pro...
