may 6
there's no remedy for memories.
cutting lips of vodka flasks, hiding the shame like painting over a wall stricken with tears chin up loved one your time has almost come you are almost done pain sorrow neglect will soon be adjectives in the story you will never publish a story left untold for families to soon unfold hush now loved one your time has almost come tip the bottle higher dear I promise you you will not be this glum flashes of the suffering rush through your mind like a child down the stairs on Christmas morning lingering in your subconscious until the deed is done sirens flare broken vodka bottles everywhere everyone stares
-r.a.r. it will not leave my head.
