The voices scatter
Talking to city streets
Saying words that don’t matter
Talking to the crowd inside
While a racing heart beats
Left alone with a mind that remembers
Writing words with a pen that scribbles madness
In a book that clutters thoughts left alone
Smoke settles in a dim lit room
If I could start again
I wouldn’t let the blood hit the page
I wouldn’t let the blood hit the floor
I would not bleed
The ground twelve stories down buries the noise
The window carries my voice
To a God I just can’t hear
To a place that is not near
To a fire lit with all my fear
For I am here
And I bleed
While I stand
