The handwriting warm glimpses
Pushes the grief that always follow
The charge you consume
Plucks the soul you Bloom
the cold it holds beneath
drugs the ill that scars beneath
standing there with the whisper of fales that overwhelms
And and it grows until there's nothing underneath

A lost soul
Drifting through this place, searching for a warm door
One that will let her in, to fit in, to lay in
tries its hardest to figure things out, out there
But it’s easy to see
It’s not fair
Not being able to drown in
To smell the scent of this secret sin.

Why does it not moving at all?
Dancing through, below the stomach's ache
What's the point of it crawling freely at my property?
The bitter taste stays,
The thorns of its touch, I feel it constantly

Will it carry me away?
Says I belong to its vehemence,
Lurking coldly within my skin.
Tempestly, with safety it gives,
The empty storm it will bring

The second skin it has built,
Trying to escape it, but its in me, living,
Mostly, its me.

In front of me, can't hold it
Appears to me, can't catch it
Filling the silence that it caused
The weight it holds, I choked
Having it within the soul it once woke
The cloudy dust
ink of dawn
the chain,all I gain
stuck in its stain
Walking its endless road that it booked
It Devours the edge, hollow
Felt crawls till its marrow

an uncontrollble bug roams freely inside,
feeding on the remnants of my restless dreams
until it ruins them
leaving countless leftovers behind