memories love misery, and history fed off of extremities
i count my balances with stimulating conversation - aided with escalating substances
i dont feel much of myself in me, let alone you
im not
im just pretending, im just simulating what i should be doing
as long as you get it, what does it matter what happens after it ?
you cant deal with the disorder in me, and i cant stand your inconsistency
why dont you leave, why dont you leave
i let this boy push me up against the wall, legs around him and up off my feet . . .
just so you would
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