Thre strikes
down the middle of my thigh
running red as I wonder why
and how this has happened to me
Why the skies
mirror my eyes:
dark, and clouded,
playing shy.
Three strikes
I'm out
(that's the rule of the game)
But I no longer really want to play,
anyway.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
Thre strikes
down the middle of my thigh
running red as I wonder why
and how this has happened to me
Why the skies
mirror my eyes:
dark, and clouded,
playing shy.
Three strikes
I'm out
(that's the rule of the game)
But I no longer really want to play,
anyway.
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