The Snake

May 3, 2011
By Anonymous

What’s coming through is alive,
What’s holding up is a mirror.
But what’s singing songs is a snake,
They’re both totally void of hate,
But killing me just the same…
Venomous voice, tempts me, drains me,
Bleeds me, leaves me,
Feeling cracked and empty…
Drags me down like some sweet gravity.

The snake behind me hisses what my damage could have been.
My heart before me begs me, open up my heart again.
And I feel this coming over like a storm again, now.

Under these tears, now.
The walls came down.
And as the snake is drowned, as I look in his eyes.
My fear begins to fade, recalling all of those times,
I could’ve cried, then.
I should’ve cried, then.


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