I tear my flesh to detox the pain of knowing I can never expel what truly lies deep beneath the surface of my soul.
The scars are a staircase Into the attic where all my pain is locked away to catch the dust of the dried up salty tears I have let go.
New memories I envoke to bellow that little flame left inside my heart so that it will grow and light up the dark inside my mind.
The shades have been drawn to long, my heart has been pale and cold in the damp caverns of the cave within my chest.
My imagination seems to be all I have left and it is dissipating and starving for inspiration desperately clinging to survive.
©wintersteal
S