| Pen to paper with invisible ink
|
| Displaying honesty with nothing to show
|
| Recanting the taste of the knife
|
| A sweet to bury me forever
|
| We’re trapped in casings made of arsenic and inclinations
|
| Indigence from the heart trudging on so unfulfilled
|
| I haven’t been so much as thrilled to be alive
|
| For I am cursed and holding on
|
| To this semblance of a life
|
| I cannot shake
|
| The jinx that’s applied
|
| The haunts that encroach
|
| A rain that won’t dry
|
| I’m drinking my options
|
| And dying of thirst
|
| The shadows still lingering
|
| For I am cursed
|
| The lights have been dim lit
|
| The candles burned wet
|
| No shelter to house this
|
| A plague that can’t set
|
| A scratch at this ulcer
|
| A prayer that it bursts
|
| A longing for solace
|
| For I am cursed
|
| Mouth to bottle with a hunger for regret
|
| Paralyzed in an infant state
|
| Our feelings benumbed by our consumptions
|
| Every kiss a coat to peel and flake
|
| Habituation a crutch which once brought solace
|
| Now choleric as there is no other choice
|
| Cauterize the wounds which exposures
|
| Smoldering ache which begat the vice
|
| I’ve never felt such vapid space behind my eyes
|
| For I am cursed and moving past
|
| The orchestrator of these cries
|
| I cannot shake
|
| The jinx that’s applied
|
| The haunts that encroach
|
| A rain that won’t dry
|
| I’m drinking my options
|
| And dying of thirst
|
| The shadows still lingering
|
| For I am cursed
|
| The lights have been dim lit
|
| The candles burned wet
|
| No shelter to house this
|
| A plague that can’t set
|
| A scratch at this ulcer
|
| A prayer that it bursts
|
| A longing for solace
|
| For I am cursed |