A Wish for Wings That Work
Could I end my life with a knife sharpened of problems sweet satisfaction of a night sky with horns a papercut bleeds like a cut vein could this sky open up and accept this tortured soul but my wings have yet to work change means nothing when nothing wants to change save your strength for the first disappointment break this mirror that changes you forever is such an unpleasant word it begins to eat you from the inside out beg for sleep as the noose is tied around your neck