she is not the one you love but she seems
words spilling out like a flood
into the air with a
violent silence, wounded prideful ways
bruises, bloodshed, bitter hate
gather y
color and needles break the skin
pain the perception desired on
quiet desperation is slowly pulling down
give yourself away but keep
from the first bell i hear
i am only grinding gears
in
callous liar
bitter coward
spiteful pessimist
selfish perfectionist
don't prete
take me to the coastline way down south
let me hear
sometimes i can feel it waiting in between my thoughts
a
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