-this is a cry for help.
so long since I felt the edge of a blood-slicked razor's tongue  
cutting me like a critic  
so long since the deeper hues of forgotten gasped their way to the surface & choked    
gills flapping in the crosswind    
washed up  
on the shitty shore of reality  
my puppet strings are slackening  
so if I'm short of thought because  
the ink I used to write in has run dry  
what harm can it do to dip my fingertips in the River Styx  
just one more time  
I don't know how far I'd go    
to be a genius  
Written by 010101110110100101 (053927598376y93870873109)
Published | Edited 19th Nov 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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13 shaunda NoMoreLove
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