Everything rhymes yet the words don't seem right.
A black and white world is blurred.
Now grey clouds the surface.
The wind picks me up, blows me away.
I'm not strong enough to stay.
Am I being erased?
The earth swallowed me whole, as my brain imploded.
It created blood clots.
I mourn the lose of my dear dead roses.
I never had the chance to paint them red.
So instead, I cut off their heads.
I'm stuck in a washing machine, a never ending circle.
My heart gets rinsed out with soap,
As the voices in my head tell me what they think.
Loser. Cry baby. Weak.
Cold. Failure. Distant.
At the end of the day, I'm exhausted.
Worn down by being a victim, attacked by myself.