Collecting stones to build heavy nothings

If my words can cut like blades
I’d spend days putting them in place
Designing patterns for the truth to convey
Leaving scars eons can’t erase

The prototype of my empty space
Your selfish act can be replaced
Your bitter sweetness-just a phase
Dressed up to be defaced

Nevertheless, we briefly embraced
Til the Moon put a spotlight on our disgrace
White wolves running in a rat race
With gold teeth, but rotten at the base

You may act tough
But the Gods laid your weakness on your face
The more you wish it away
The more it resonates

The more you fight it
The more it’ll stay
The more blood you spit
The more your skin will decay

Head looks calm, eyes scream ‘Mayday!’
I’m not sorry for your loss-but kind words I will say
They will cut you open, broken strings they will play
I’ll hit the high note, I’ll be out-it’s a new day.

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