*I think you left a match burning
While you were dissecting me from your brain,
Creating flames from my hair
Which were ignited by my brittle bones
My fingers will soon become ashes
And I'm afraid of what I'll become*
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
*I think you left a match burning
While you were dissecting me from your brain,
Creating flames from my hair
Which were ignited by my brittle bones
My fingers will soon become ashes
And I'm afraid of what I'll become*
