You write of souls...
As if you had one
As if it did not run away
As if one consumed that empty body of yours
You write of minds...
As if yours was not lost
As if you’ve had it all along
As if it were not so far as to not be reached
You write of tears...
As if yours flowed clear
As if the metal in your hand had not forced them out
As if you knew how to let them flow
You write of love...
As if you had experience
As if you ever fell into the vortex of its fakeness
As if you were ever that happy
You write of hate...
As if you never felt it
As if no one hurt you
As if you never wanted to kill them
You write of sex...
As if you enjoy it
As if were never taken from you
As if you were not scared of it
You write of demons...
As if you have none
As if they don’t haunt you mercilessly
As if they didn’t keep you awake at night
You write of hope...
As if it exists
As if you had not lost it
As if it were still out there somewhere