Broken Clock

Raindrops, snowflakes landing on empty places held by nothing but memories erased in time.

Repetition of the same notes etched into broken clocks that no longer tick.

Yet the tock of the clocks echoes inside my head in the middle of the night and everything bellows take flight into the night with only the moon to guide me.

How I yearn to be a wolf and howl out to the one thing that’s guiding me, yet hiding me.

I no longer am me.

I am a shadow of a corpse that once use to paint roses red and suns a bright yellow and crave attention of a handsome fellow but I have disappeared

I hear the pain in the pianos as Beethoven’s hands traced over keys hoping to leave an imprint on things that can only make sense when you allow the soul to lead ...

Raindrops, snowflakes

Reminding me I will make a way.

Yet I am at a standstill.

I want to allow the scream buried inside to bellow out into the silent night and watch as the lights flicker from a concerned citizen but do they care?

Is it true or curiosity under skeptical eyes hoping to glance inside to see if you’ll truly make it.

Almost as if the scars on the arms weren’t signs with neon lights and hazard signs showing the world isn’t always kind

I’ve grown silent.

The winter surrounds me, I never realized I was cold.

Heart beating at an unfamiliar beat to me and even I cant interpret it.

Father can you hear me?

This song inside that rhymes and these eyes that wake in the night searching for something anything that makes sense.

These nightmares suffocating me in their grip only to wake up and see they’re a reality

The wicked seem to prosper yet my faith says just believe a little harder

I am a shell ...

Raindrops, snowflakes covering the ground that used to carry memories but instead they fade away like the seasons

I too am waiting for spring in hopes that something inside of me will bloom and I will no longer be as naked as the trees during winter

I too yearn for the sun on my delicate skin to cause this hard shell to crack and I too shall sprout

I will bloom flowers so beautiful that I will have something so small come near and create such a big impact that it’s almost naked to the human eye

I don’t want to be big

But I want my impact on this earth to mean something before I am in the dirt.

Raindrops, snowflakes fall.

Tears hidden by a plastered smile that smothers the voice inside screaming help me.

Do you as well hear the pain the piano strings sing to me?

Raindrops, snowflakes fall

Raindrops, snowflakes landing on empty places held by nothing but memories erased in time.

Repetition of the same notes etched into broken clocks that no longer tick.

Yet the tock of the clocks echoes inside my head in the middle of the night and everything bellows take flight into the night with only the moon to guide me.

How I yearn to be a wolf and howl out to the one thing that’s guiding me, yet hiding me.

I no longer am me.