Depakote

Blood drops on my journal page, tear stained rusted on my cheek. Tattood her name a thousand times, I keep those scars from prying eyes. Picture of Jesus and a spiderweb of lies. Anarchy diamonds with an unjust pride. The concrete is cold under my feet her memory makes me lonesome, sad, and weak. I've become a bitter person; trying to be a better man. The hourglas is almost empty, down to the last few grains of sand. People are so fake a smile velcroed across their face. What was will never be, a memory I no longer see. A touch I'll never feel, from a love that was never real.