Erase These Verses of Me

Erase these verses of me,
these words do not speak!
I write while feeling weak.
Blind, the truth I don’t see.

We hear steps of the death.
Wall clock tick-tacking…
and my verses keyboarding.
How much costs my breath?

I can for moments forget
when remembering your eyes,
and I believed my own lies
that I would only win if I bet.

All my bred randomness
transforms into inspiration.
Verses are their destination
like the sword of sharpness.

Sword that slices my chest.
The more that I think about,
is the more that I’ll find out
how I hate not being her best.

Gratitude with hatred and love,
for the quotas of my existence
with mentions to my experience,
please do what I asked above.

Erase these verses of me,
these words I did not speak!
Desires that I did not seek
with eyes that cannot see.