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Description
Hold it, dangling, as if it were made to fall.
It holds emotions, like love or hate.
Take them, write them, for they must exist,
Even though they don’t.

Tonight I must feed.
I walk on dead grass, wet with tears.
It matters not, as it is it’s utility.
Every pain makes me drunk, every joy gets me high.
Everyone shares the air of my disease.
I cough a bit, then I die.

Description
Hold it, dangling, as if it were made to fall.
It holds emotions, like love or hate.
Take them, write them, for they must exist,
Even though they don’t.

Tonight I must feed.
I walk on dead grass, wet with tears.
It matters not, as it is it’s utility.
Every pain makes me drunk, every joy gets me high.
Everyone shares the air of my disease.
I cough a bit, then I die.