little black books

little black books scattered all over the house

little white pages filled with blue tears disguised as words jotted down

from the last endeavor from my past lover

red writings read a thousand times

believing it'll heal the wounds

i smear the emotions on the page

looking for some type of relief

tension only builds

a hurt i cant seem to escape

black tears rehearsed over and over

no closure in sight

little black books

thrown all over the place

pick one up just to throw it back down

I'm sick of writing about being heart broken

feelings i cant break away from

i always recoil

finding comfort in my darkness

this is madness

for some reason

pain is ingrained in my veins

pain is my creativity