I keep my wish list
Upon my wrist
But they don't care for that
I keep my dreams
In makeup creams
They said to try that
They said live a fake life
Be a good little wife
I left, and died my hair black
I walk looking down
In vintage whisky I drown
And I'm ok with that
They said to "fake a smile"
Wear My pain with style
I'm no good at that
I try and cover my wish list
Written in scars upon my wrist
With the dreams, silent screams
Makeup creams
I'm not ok with that....
I miss you all. Please forgive my boldness here. Sometimes, I just have to SCREAM. The only way I know how. Much love to you all.