free writing

my face is jaundiced from the reflection of the moon

you stare at me silently waiting for my confession

but i don't have it

you know the answers to the questions that linger in your mind

the faint outline of a tear hanging on your bloodshot eyes

my hands are made to create not destroy

your lies were crafted by the minds of meddling men

you can keep walking the other way or face reality

no one can love you more than you love yourself

embrace the four knuckles of redemption in your face

taste the sour vengeance of dismay on my lips

you told me you were incapable of love

i didn't believe you i knew it existed within your head

the problem is our heads always make the decisions for our hearts

death is an easy answer - but life - life is the bastard child of a world raped by lies.