24.7.11

hands.

Idle hands are the Devils playground.
Tik-tok,
the clock, it taunts me.
I shouldnt be left alone with these thoughts.
Foul & vile.
The stench of my past sours my stomach.
My eyes are heavy, but i know sleep wont come.
I sit and pick the skin from my fingernails,
i pick till they are raw and bleed.
I watch the blood form and clot.
Silence can be deafening.
Its piercing, i want to scream.