Hammer these nails just six inches deep. Pierce the skin and through the bone. Tie a red ribbon around my eyes so you can't see the tears I cry. Washing away the dirt on my face from the mud you bathed me in.
The sky is as black as your heart. May lightning light the darkened night. A spotlight to shine down upon your hands, soaked in the blood you beat from my chest.
I can see the fear on your lips as you speak lies to the world. Feed them more shit then you can back up, tongue in your mouth spilling it out. Blasphemy. Blasphemy. Blasphemy.
In your mind your doing what is right, but deep in your heart your full of regret. Remorse is the stain slapped on your face. Too filthy to cry, to fucked to look back. When did you die alone? Alone to the wold. Nowhere to go, nothing to be.
Reach to the sky. Bury yourself. Down on your knees, fight for your life.
Blasphemy. Blasphemy. Blasphemy.
About Me
- B. Bennett
- What if written word has more of an effect than we know? What if what you are reading now, is slowly making it's way through your brain, and being processed in such a way that it makes you do things without even realizing? Perhaps a form of hypnotism. Tiny impulses stored and being used through out your life for reasons that you may never know. What if?
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