The KNIFE Feels right IN MYΒ Β Hand dear friend! I am a king IN a long forgotten land Her hands left burns upon my arm Collapsing veins Like Blue Flower Petals Nails digging Into flesh Infest I gaze a way Under my breath HER FINGERS FEEL LIKE RAZORS HER WORDS BROKEN POINTS SPLITTING THE SUNLIGHT HERE ON THE STREETCORNER AS IF SHE DOES THIS EVERY DAY her pail skin Cunning In day light as I fight For a breath Her jawline soft geometric Are you lost? Doped on hash she Tears into me With sideways glances Laughing knives in my back