Depakote

Blood drops on my journal page, tear stains rusted on my cheek. Tattooed her name a thousand times, I keep these scars from prying eyes. Pictures of Jesus and a spiderweb of lies. Anarchy diamonds with an august 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 hour glass is almost empty, down to the last few grains of sand. People are so fake, a smile velcroed to 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.