03-18-2012, 06:53 AM
This is something I started doodling with when I was rather angry.
The Diagnosis.
God forbid they be torn open,
the seams across the flesh.
I can no longer differentiate
this convoluted mesh.
God forbid the diagnosis.
We have our secrets to keep.
God forbid we hear again
that the future looks bleak.
God forbid we say
that which we all know.
God forbid the seams split
and we let each other go.
God forbid these chords be thrown
for seams seem as strict as silence
to what we've all known
and God forbid be shown.
The Diagnosis.
God forbid they be torn open,
the seams across the flesh.
I can no longer differentiate
this convoluted mesh.
God forbid the diagnosis.
We have our secrets to keep.
God forbid we hear again
that the future looks bleak.
God forbid we say
that which we all know.
God forbid the seams split
and we let each other go.
God forbid these chords be thrown
for seams seem as strict as silence
to what we've all known
and God forbid be shown.