Curing the obsession

writing

Count the minutes you spent crying and tell me if it was a waste of water…kind of like the words that spilled from my mouth flooding the room to the point New Orleans would be grateful of the minor damaged it was left with. A great waste of sewage water spewing from my mouth contaminated with a virus of momentary madness. Something untouchable and uncontrollable that goes dormant at will, an anger so sharp like the glass beneath the murky waters where I tread, ready to open the wound at a seconds notice and bleed me dry of this crimson bodily obsession. It’s only fair my unhealthy obsession with life and love come to a screeching halt on the same page and cease to exist. Standing still in the middle of the self absorbed flood drying the wounds of the tattered moral I once called a soul. I scream out my agony and free myself of subconscious guilt for the things I never did. I look in the gleaming reflection of self before me covered in crimson lacquer, dripping with sins long past committed and crumble at the feet of my self righteous ghost.

Reviews

[MiracleMoon]

I just wanted to say that this is unbelievably beautiful. Wow, first work I've read of yours and I am entirely enthralled by it!