Poetry not story

The fact that I was screaming and yet the ocean still drowned me out \

was already proof enough

of the lies that had fallen like rocks to push me back

when I had finally broken the surface

Now we are both slowly chipping away

and we just remember each other's mistakes

while we both struggle to breathe through this mess

Words are wasted on those who do not listen

and we've wasted enough

I've tried to bring a steady hand, but my feet keeps slipping

I try to hold your hand, but in the end you were just a dream

Screams always get muffled until the last second

when the knife of curses gets pushed too deep

too soon would they rush and ruin your dreams

until all is out of luck

The skies will one day turn red, red from you and me

Red from what we murdered, of who both of us were to be

The fact that you held me under wad proof enough

of the fight that we've both tried to stop

but rage begun the battle again before the swords could be drawn

And we've both wasted time

again