Some bruises have pretty endings
The end is where they’d begin –

This bag I roamed in –
Had a lingering stench of blades
Smell lingered a bit onto other things
To needles and pills and liquids and nicotine
All dashed with a palatable dosage of drug abuse

Here’s the thing –
There are times;
And must know, it’s not in their best interest
(Nor for the others)
This is when death seems so dear

Obscure and alone
Thoughts and some more of that
(Probably a sad track in the dark theme background)

At times like these
We shut ourselves,
Often in our own selves

(We won’t be crying for help,
Even though we need it –
At times like these
Someone placing a gentle hand and saying –
“It’s going to be alright, I am there for you”
Is all the help one can be)

Today’s no exception –
Just that,
Sometimes as the sun set
I realized how bruises can have pretty ends
(Just like this day)