distracting scratching and i'm craving more disturbing unnerving it's number four not mine and not yours i'm losing the score a token to the broken mr valium whore take off the sting
the scars on the inside are made of braille. you can touch and feel but you cannot see and these scars yes, the ones on the outside i wear long sleeves and high heels
it's busy again and i'm all alone my friend. passing glances fallen glasses casting watchful eyes over blurry eyed dirty minds. trousers betwixt waist and wasted speech slurred
poor grammar and sloppy punctuation weave through my lines. like the commotion in my head. and, i am not sure weather i write with a lack of knowledge/ education or verse
The bed is warm but not with you not a haven for love and dreams anymore it's too monstrous even for me but when we were together we filled it with smiles and tea my darling i cry before z's
