"*I've seen you trace the straight lines on your wrists,
There's such precision; it makes me sick.
To waste such elegant canvas',
With the use of ****** lines...
It doesn't make sense.
How? Why?
What compells you, sweetheart,
To do such a thing?
There was never any beauty
Behind geometrical lines.*"
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 6:20 AM UTC
"*I've seen you trace the straight lines on your wrists,
There's such precision; it makes me sick.
To waste such elegant canvas',
With the use of ****** lines...
It doesn't make sense.
How? Why?
What compells you, sweetheart,
To do such a thing?
There was never any beauty
Behind geometrical lines.*"
But, **** It's so beautiful.
