No eyes watch this tongues bitter mornings.
My mother doesn't even know I drink coffee.
The trails know my footprints better then any memory of a boy who left behind me.
I have a drawer of broken headphones and
nails bitten down to the bone
my birthday present was a lock on the door.  
How do you look at somebody-how do you blink your eyes?
Make me cry, I'd love to do it too. High and dry on a Friday, I've made nothing in awhile.
veins still pump with the devils pulse
I'm orange with ****** desire.  
stuck in neutral
attached to your words, not you.