Some days I stay inside my head
And unthread the thoughts of crimson and red
While this hunger inside remains unfed
And this blood I’ve shed is meaningless.
But these feelings I feel,
Too profound to be real
Still bleeding, won’t heal.
Caught in this cycle of ideal
Like a wheel that’s continuously spinning…
I used to think I was a dreamer of dreams
A believer it seems, in silence and screams
Rushing along with streams and moon beams,
As I gleamed with the essence of your being.
But I’ve come undone, fallen apart
Faded and cracked like old ancient art
My head is smart, but I’m following my heart
And hoping that at the end of this road,
Is a fresh new start…
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