by ERIC
Judging in words, sentence is death attacked by verbal grenades by the judgmental wishing for a repaired heart but remaining unenlightened, blowing out candles but still embarking toward the light, but reprimanding my darkened theory, wishing for a spark of thought to ignite this eclipse, prejudice ensues these lacerations pertaining to the pessimists as they try to rip off the emotional band-aids, while the words, like whips, try to vanish from the wrists that splurge freely to the black abyss, a splattered letter written in crimson, wishing for the three lettered words, eight letters in length, to stop being shoved down throats and perforates the indulgence oblivion is cleansed in slits and bullying keeps honesty clenched in my abdomen, snapping adolescence’s independence to wish to mention, remaining mute to stop the emotion of the cruel intention, words loaded like magazines, paragraphs entwined paraphrasing the distance, and how someone from so far away can add additional indent, carrying words, subtracting the happiness, two hearts at division.
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