The Marsh family anthology
To be frank, I am loveless; I have always loved less.
Drowning deep, deep in a sea of me.
My own sorrow makes others’ hard to see.
Smoking out rescuers. Their pleas just go unheard as I rush head first into the danger.
First responders remain unable; they are all unavailable. I really made them all unavailable?
I locked myself out of all their remaining levels. Potential quests lines I have disabled.
I really shouldn’t say disabled.
Now they are all off the table.
Estranged forever and ever.
Just scorched earth for all my endeavors.
In order to flee some bridges must remain in reach
and under me they fall deep, deep in my fiery sea.
We are the architects of our own creation. Just two little pigs with our straws and sticks. Our home ill equipped to weather the years to come. Fixer uppers swept up in a whirlwind romance.
Had I any foresight those words may have been my vows.
Our first dance around his words.
I don’t dance around mine. I hold the line. Were I to allow him over my resolve would crumble, so I dedicate myself to the wall. Bricks finally enter the construction site.
You are finally breaking ground;
Just not in the way we asked.
In a rush to bury the casket like it’s the past.
Only open secrets are never silent; not even in death do they part.
Out of life, out of mind,
But I’ve got her hatchet around my neck.
Gift of god, because no name meant surprise
I’m the black sheep you sacrifice to your altar of family.
I even say it blatantly, but you’re obsessed with bleeping over me.
It’s too late to walk away.
You already made the choice to stay.
You chose to sacrifice me in vain.
But even on your worst days you still felt the sunshine on your face.
Yeah, I’m an ever growing stain you can’t keep covered up.
And knowing you it is too much to clean up.
You’d rather keep up this never ending dance around broken glass.
You’ve given up on living without the mess.
I’m the morbid dark cloud looming over the day, my storm drowning out this mournful charade.
Giving me grief is such a slap in the face.
Insane you didn’t think I’d like to spit on her final resting place.
You think I’m raising hell?
I think that’s what you did.
And by the way that’s where you’re all headed.
Why is she still a cross for us to bear?
I think we did that enough when she was still here.
snowghoul
discoholicmusic
jacobvanloon
pixelskylines
kaledo-art
romaincrisis
blakekathryn
prguitarman
