Wine glass on the dirty wood, the crimson liquid wine red leaked out of its own glass and onto the infected carpet surrounding it
I drank till my heart ache ends, my dry lips and the fumes on my face from the past; I was only choosing blood over forgiveness
Their is no clocks or time, the black dripping out of my wet mouth, and my eyes tired of the worlds end
I wanted to give up and tie my ankles to chains so I may not move outside where the world was chaos
I chose the shattered, wine glass unlimitely filled with its own drink on the dark wood table over my future, and myself
Crying in my broken feet I couldn't move, I started to close my eyes dropping my own cup of feeling free
And
It was the end.
The wind filled the old carpet and leaked through the floor, it was dark; and my baggy eyes start to close with my stone full heart, was I in the wrong?