Mar 27
Ink Sparks's picture


A game of chess
that never rests
until the best are best,
and the rest are put to rest
​and the anger isn't kept in
​That, it seems,
is today's theme
words cutting, clean
into hearts cold and lean,
​as we sit at the table
unable to disable
the feeling of a cable
wrapping around our necks,
our friendship a frame
​shattered now, never tame 
in the eyes of the sane
​they see thunder rein
and it's all pain,
​one or the other
there's no more each other
there's just another, 
and another,
​and another
​and no one wants to be the mother,
​so the actions flow without stutter
the flash is on, the camera pointed
​disappointed, disjointed
​we try to appoint a leader
​to turn off the heater
so out words become sweeter
​and our feelings become neater,
we choose to choose
we hate to lose,
​but we also hate when blues
​mix with other hues
and clash the used
with the bruised,
abused on the inside,
you and her
fit like a glove
supposed to love,
​but the dirt turned to mud
from the blood, 
out of your mouth
comes nothing
​stitches and stuffing
​I'm not bluffing,
​I love you like a sister,
​but mister was history
​now that he's back, you're distancing,
you don't want to do the dirty work
blame it on your quirks 
it never works
​you have to work
​if you don't want her to hurt,
I don't want her to hurt
​she's my sister too, and you?
​You're gonna cut her through and through,
​it's true.
​I don't want to hurt you, I want things right
​but in the end, we won't all win this fight.