Wednesday, May 23, 2007

small, simple, safe price,rise the wake and carry me with all my regrets. this is not a small cut that scabs, and dries, and flakes, and heals. im not afraid to die, not afraid to bleed, and fuck and fight. i want the pain of payment, whats left, but a section of pigmy size cut. much like a slew of thousands unwanted fucks. would you be my little cuts? would you be my thousands fuck? and make mark leaving space for the guilt to liquid. to fill, and spillover, and under my thoughts. my sad, sorry, selfish cry out to the cutter. im cutting, trying to picture your black broken heart. love is not like anything. especially a fucking knife. hoping for the best just hoping nothing happens, a thousand clever lines unread on clever napkins, i will never asked if you dont ever tell me, i know you well enough to know you'll never love me.

i'm a fake, i'm a fake, i'm a fake, i'm a fake.

screamed ;
5/23/2007 11:53:00 PM

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