WOAH=WORDS OF A HURT PERSON

Blank stare up into the air no care or passion not even a simple reaction with all of the painful scars locked into my skull.
morbidly dull.
Unspoken words are just broken words Ill give you some token words.

Dismayed and heart broken into peices like a shattered glass or leeches.
My concious getting to me for I am turning purple and blue.
No longer being able to see the I put my hand on the Bible truth.
No longer can I take this disarray of pain you bring rattled up in a box infront of my door and leave it.

For it to came as a welcomed guest in my heart and I breeded it.
I am no longer exempt from the thoughts and memories knocking on my door telling me to come in.

Thoughts are stuck in the back of your head but like a disease or lady of the evening all they do is spread.
No longer able to hide in that four squared box hoping nobody sees me.