the sky is gray, empty, cold its sunset throws metallic reflections on that desert you hide inside
your empty thoughts your insomniac abortions gutted outside under starless nights
hiding behind your steel there’s obsidian, and never ending days
it’s raining blood now it hammers your head it rips your heart leaves you breathless
you barely remember the snow from that picture, the one you couldn’t understand you are wonderful, while you lick your own wounds while crying salt all over them
doesn’t matter, you whisper without hate
and you almost, almost throw up
the air is thick with iron a fragile, porcelain dawn shines from behind your walls
and almost, almost makes your hell disappear
your eyes are wide open shining through your dirty hair flies are trying to eat them dark circles are trying to dig them out you almost, almost
can’t see anymore