Once in a while I need someplace to vent. This will be that place.
Friday, February 1, 2013
When time drips like drying paint
Or a leaky roof
Or a single tear drop
I itch in my own skin
To rip and pull
Create a slice
Its like fumes or hate and death are exhaled out of me
Why do you look and stare?
They're just pretty lines
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