Thursday, November 12, 2009


I feel as if it's there
to mock me, but it's just concrete
Or is it there to reflect me?

If it was only made of glass
It'd be a lot easier to smash

Knuckles bled, cracking bones
My heart pumping out of control
If I'd known why it would be there

I could have stopped it from being built

I've been known to argue
with myself,
about the things I love
I've been known to argue
with the things I love

Why can't a sentence
Why can't a scream
Why can't a thought
Tell someone what I mean?

Because I don't know

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