What do you do, when all you can do…
Your muscles hide,
the grim inside
You think you’re quick,
but you’re not shit.
When all the tears,
you refused to shed,
turn into the life,
that someone’s bled.
What do you do,
when all you can do,
is sit there and wonder,
why she left?
If you’d told the truth,
she might be here.
Instead you bleed
with your unshed tears.
