joeyeffincahill

I know when something is really wrong
By my inability to write about it.

Something really needs to change,
One of these days, ask me why I referred to you as the rain.

And when the wind would blow
We were safe and warm below
Not even one would know this sacred hand I held.
Under the weight of snow
This winter took it's toll
I thought you made me whole, but how was I to tell
That I was just cold
Now I'm shaking in this suffocating mold
And it's getting old
I've wasted you, now you're forcing me to fold.

I fucking hate this sinking ground,
The hell that it covers,
And the feet it surrounds.
But as my faith is pulling down,
I'll scream for another,
And hope to be found.