Needle and thread
I sit within the cage of mizery, my hard cold outer shell.
If any one is to come save me it is too early to tell.
So I sit here, waiting, waiting for them.
The one who would save me from myself.
So many have gone and pased me by.
My once golden blond hair now a dark brown.
My once ocean blue eyes now a dull grey.
Pale as ever and skelital thin.
My very existance being a sin.
Lieing down no where to be found.
In this black whole where my heart once was red.
As thoughts of my past fill my head I wish I was dead.
But the knife is out of my reach.
Being held by the one who'd heal my torn heart with a needle and thread
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I am here to spread the messages of the lies and the world around us that we have desensored ourselfs to
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