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to all the artists and criminals.
Category: Poems
I feel like im eating a re-heated meal home alone in the dead of night, but that isnt too f**king poetic is it? I cant sell that s**t to anyone for a cent my words are cheap, and everyone else is cheaper. i want my words to bite, to push you into a corner, and make you bleed like nothing else. i want to make the statues feel something i want them to hurt like they hurt me like they made me bleed and cry and scream and fall apart. i want to be able to feel anything but this. i want to be okay. i want to get this s**t off my chest i want to pour my heart onto paper but i cant. i just cant. to all the poets and murderers im sorry...
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