puppenhaus

For days I have walked With this noose of thorns around my neck Dragging this dead weight through the dirt behind me You always walked alongside, step by step Your voice, sometimes you whisper Sometimes you shatter all my senses Your laughter echoes through the dead branches I catch glimpses of light streaming from far beyond Feeling cold against my ecchymosed skin You leer as the sharp twigs snatch at my matted hair As barbs cut through my tissue As I tread the path littered with my fallen grace Has it been years, my thoughts echo through the emptiness A decade, your sanguinary lips whisper against my ear It has been long, yes, this pitifu