Why don't u hoist me?
Anywhere,
Anytime.
Its about time that I start to become numb,
Numb,
Numb.
To everything that is you,
That portriat u painted oh-so long ago,
With me sitting in an ovesized black leather couch with a knife on the wooden caramel floor,
And red paint dripping down my cheeks-my eyes.
It never crossed ur mind that it could be more,
That I would remember it with guilt,
Anger,
Pain?
Yesterday is not Yesterday,
Today is not today,
Tomorrow is not tomorrow,
Its still that day u asked me to count to ten,
Hold my breath,
Shut my mouth,
And love the knife that u thrusted inside of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment