Drumming

My heart bloomed as the whispers from the cages let go of my sense of self. Pressed between the mirror and these crosses that weighs the insufferable nuances for this apologetic "under the graveyard" wannabe. As he said that everything was over, the background changed into this bittersweet mix of blood and widen love driven eyes. Another night as the same clothing brand, as the unresponsive cold hearted rogue and as the horizon that sets foot a thousands yards away from some sanity. If there was a wish that someone could gift to me, may that be my eternal peace in their act as the reaper and angel that cleanses with bullets my sorrow.