My soul stained bleach onto the walls of my room. The room that I lived in when I was alive. If only the blood would wash out of the carpet.
Pain spattered black on the walls, my sins red as the blood that bleeds from my body. Vacant eyes stare upwards to the ceiling. Eternally fading from the memory of everyone that knew me or thought they did.
What am I now but more that a memory when that too fades?
YOU ARE READING
Poems and Rants Of A Killjoy
PoetryAll of my thoughts written down in here... This is a place for those who need a safe haven of sorts. Made by one of your own. I hope you can learn from my mistakes. "Come one, come all to this tragic affair..." -Dead! By My Chemical Romance [ON-GOIN...
