erok

shards summon forth the rain wash away the filth I can blanch memories I can't cleanse my soul summon forth the flames strip flesh from bone I can't slough memories they're like second skin one cut for memory another for hope I'm probing for answers can only strike a nerve cutting cables unloading dead weight until nothing remains an innate self-loathing pouring from every aperture these holes in my skin let darkness out let it flow these holes in my skin let darkness out let it flow there's nothing less in this world than what I think of myself a broken man paint a picture of a broken man search for a reason strike a nerve the scars have faded weathered away through the years all memories remain intact clear, crystalline, and unpure cutting cables unloading dead weight until nothing remains these holes in my skin let darkness out let it flow in rivulets that flow down my arms into the drain rivulets of blood flow down my arms into the drain an innate self-loathing pouring from every aperture never a truer feeling than pain to assure me I'm alive

-Starkweather