My child, my lovely child dont let them bring you down dont let them swallow you because they will take your soul they will make you cry they will hit you till you bruise dont let them dont cut. Oh my child, my pitiful child dont let it all go like this dont let it gush into that porcelein hell because it is your life you see flowing away like a waterfall then they have won the games they play dont let them win dont bleed. oh my child, my whisper now dont let it stop beating God! dont let it stop beating because we did all we could they tried to take her away her soul is faded, her skin is pale dont take her now just breathe. oh my child, my silenced one dont lie so still dont speak so low because we couldnt make it your voice so soft is almost just a thought or maybe it was all along... just sleep. Im feeling somewhat conflicted tonight. On one hand i am glad my creative juices are still flowing well, god, ive been writing so much lately. But on the other hand i realize my writings are not exactly any love sonnets or the like. It seems the only fodder for my creative fire is the buffet table of shit ive been dealing with lately. It can put one into a bit of a depressed state when you look back through your writings of the past weeks only to reflect the same gloomy color everything else has been tinted with lately. Ah well, write what you feel, i suppose. Hopefully soon things will regain some of their former liveliness around here.
