Stop laying on the floor
Covered in your own blood
Guess the gun didn’t jam
Get up, give a damn

Maybe stick around
The way I haunt you
Eons not enough to

So what? we’re dying
You gotta push through

Nine seven three
Who the fuck is counting
Get up off the ground

Or take an intermission
Put a tourniquet on what is missing
Oh honey I am listening

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Copyright © 2025 Delia Ross /@poeeternal. All rights reserved.

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I’d keep writing until I run out of data cuz no wifi here (yet) at the new home.

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Get lost could be seen in two different lights. Cuz I in fact do, get lost in the pages of your story

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That’s all

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