What will it taste like when I’m not around anymore?
Tell me how it feels to be on the ground,
Just puddles on the floor.Twirl your memories,
Twist your thoughts.
Sort through what’s there,
And discard what’s not.I’ll just sit back and watch you forget about me,
All your morals,
And everything you said you’d be.I’ll just speak-up.
I lost my voice,
But my pen bleeds louder.Yeah, I’m beat-up,
But if I had a choice,
I’d try to be a little prouder.…Maybe to come to peace,
You have to first break to pieces…If I save you a piece,
I’ll write your name on it.
But if the sky fell empty, and refused to release,
I still don’t think I could place the blame on it.-Dylan McDougall
March 1-2, January 30.
Source dmcdougall
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