I am not those lips that
drink death
I am the constellation
of a sky full of black birds
only solitude is real;
when the claws that
rip and tear
cannot get past the locked door
until I am ready to wear the mask again
Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 6:10 PM UTC
I am not those lips that
drink death
I am the constellation
of a sky full of black birds
only solitude is real;
when the claws that
rip and tear
cannot get past the locked door
until I am ready to wear the mask again