deepundergroundpoetry.com

Purple Lights

Purple lights, I'm such a masochist
Cut off everything and everyone
And leaving my stuff to drown
I dig a hole to bury the dumb shit I do

It's not a race, but you're so far ahead
What's the point in chasing you?
What's the point in changing you?

The letters mix, so find me a way
Just don't turn off the purple lights
And if you already know I can't sleep
Then please don't ask me to dream away

I kinda like, my pictures warm toned
What's the point in turning black?
What's the point in writing blood?
Written by hollowgraphic (Philip Everett Brock)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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