The excuses on your lips
make me wish
your tongue was a dull dead thing.
The teeth chatter
like insect wings
scraping my ears
burning my cheeks.
Empty like my stomach,
my mind whirls
why do we care
so much
about the ones
stuck too deep
in this world that's
******
As if through some
amazing feat
we could change the way
they breathe.
No,
go home,
be lost to sleep
because your efforts
are sad
and unfailingly weak.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
The excuses on your lips
make me wish
your tongue was a dull dead thing.
The teeth chatter
like insect wings
scraping my ears
burning my cheeks.
Empty like my stomach,
my mind whirls
why do we care
so much
about the ones
stuck too deep
in this world that's
******
As if through some
amazing feat
we could change the way
they breathe.
No,
go home,
be lost to sleep
because your efforts
are sad
and unfailingly weak.
