it's the harshness of my voice

raking in spurts of song

welcome to the place where I weep

as silent screams swallow the mouthpiece of reason

I'm good at keeping the metal in my veins

and letting my own words bleed me dry

the desperation slips through my skin

can you promise me that I'm good at this?

in the harshness of my voice

I seek you out

and wish and hope

to someday hear you break my sorrow.