I used to think that rolling up my sleeves was a challenge. Show me what you’re made of. But time has no meaning to me Anymore. My scars mingle on the in and out and nothing new or old means much Anymore.
I remember lying in bed together and thinking of poetry instead of action. Rarity Rarity. Thinking of poetry instead of you. Rolling over and that was the end of it
Something hurt as I awoke so I took the kitchen knife to carve it out. Painstakingly, I remember the note you left in my jacket pocket when you gave it back to me that afternoon. I am a whole lot of aches but it feels better with this gaping hole gushing blood.
Much of my life as been spent sitting in the back seat of various cars. I have dreamt my life away. Today has been very reminiscent much like any other day. I always lose myself and those are my favorite moments. I feel alone in all that I do.
Cold weather remind me of every romance. Romance is dead. I am different and boy, Boy, can I hit the bottom quick. I’m real sad and real lonely and it’s all I ever wanted to be.