stitching dreams into reality

such a pretty pattern

little fingers work the fabric

without light to guide them

big tears

from little red eyes

spilling forth like the last drops of hope

dont take me with you...

because i'll never come back


its the pretty things

that cuts too deep

clutching the last of me

just an imprint of what was

reason makes me walk the steps

that crumble at my footfall

my mind tainted with your poison

i am forsaken