when feelings finally disintergrate
they litter the ground, but help the taste
and now i feel your anger, it's visible from angle
and i don't talk about you, at least not devastating lies
just the type that inch you closer to your demise
just the type that you told me, the ones i saw coming, but couldn't see
and i wonder when you'll forgive me, because i forgot all about you
but i didn't forget your hope chest stuffed with porcelain lies
if you ever realize who you are, check the notes i left on your bed-
it's just what i said
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I'm having a teeny tiny bit of issue getting this one right. I can't find the fluidity myself which upsets me because I KNOW it's there.
ReplyDeletethat title is really good. Like I might want to steal it from you and use it if I ever become creative/adventurous enough to write something of my own good.
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