Similar Trains Of Thought

If not for the euphoria,of that which I call life,I’m going to call homethe edge of this knife. Bitter shields of ashenshame hang and a nooseI find thinking too muchin my mind I abuse. I can call the doctorand tell him of the pain.I can call the dire in needI see you feel the same….

Cry In My Night

Rebellion flows as I go to the edge like a sledge traveling swiftly in snow the knifes edge is dread. For a second in time shred the fever a mind lost past the second hand it fled every chance is its own last. If I were to end it’d be no sin I told myself…