LightningtheWolf9

Temperature is sitting at a toasty 102, I’ve got a never-ending sickness that I’ll never get through. Fingers numb from the cold; I watch the tips turn blue. Do you ever wonder if they could’ve loved you? How much more can you take before you realize it’s abuse? Everybody else’s actions only serve to confuse. I’m starting to think everyone has a couple screws loose, I wonder if our lives are even ours to choose. Stop thinking of the past, get rid of the negativity. These constant illnesses put a damper on my productivity. Could it be that I’m the one showing too much insensitivity? Jumbled up thoughts always block my creativity. The heat rises to a burning 103, I swear I’ve grown accustomed to every degree. Write the words, but they always end up sounding off-key. Try and always fail to find the words to set my heart free. If the temp starts to soar to 104, The blood in my veins will surely scorch my core. I’ll soon be knocking on Death’s lonely door, Shivering and shaking, my