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you got uh permanent imprint tattooed on my knuckles it says, “risen” shaky, now now i’ll touch my fingertips to the surface of the sun till there’s no love left till the ashes fall off the end of my cigarette pluck every part of u from my pores i unravel like an orange peel ur bedroom eyes, that tungsten light blue hues, **** fumes, u count my freckles like starry night and i’m sure if u stuck a needle in my thighs or the backs of my knees a little bit of ur blood mixed with mine would fill the vial ur teeth still sunken into me crimson, now i’m thinking bout uh tall boy pabst, perhaps 12 ounces of bubbles i smother my lungs he wants us to combust im thinkin bout poison or someone else to fill me up while I’m still young and while it’s still my choice bitter, now we’ve grown tired and the roots are pulled up, rotted old still stacked like nothing changed when i left like u would taste peach and think of me juicy, now
0
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
sketchbook rhetoric
you got uh permanent imprint tattooed on my knuckles it says, “risen” shaky, now now i’ll touch my fingertips to the surface of the sun till there’s no love left till the ashes fall off the end of my cigarette pluck every part of u from my pores i unravel like an orange peel ur bedroom eyes, that tungsten light blue hues, **** fumes, u count my freckles like starry night and i’m sure if u stuck a needle in my thighs or the backs of my knees a little bit of ur blood mixed with mine would fill the vial ur teeth still sunken into me crimson, now i’m thinking bout uh tall boy pabst, perhaps 12 ounces of bubbles i smother my lungs he wants us to combust im thinkin bout poison or someone else to fill me up while I’m still young and while it’s still my choice bitter, now we’ve grown tired and the roots are pulled up, rotted old still stacked like nothing changed when i left like u would taste peach and think of me juicy, now
kat-7
Written by
American
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
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