And all these people smile at me and touch me hair and tell me I'll look pretty in those little red dresses their daughters buy at expensive stores and they try to freshen their breath but I can still smell the fresh cigarettes which rot inside of them and they think that exported perfumes will hide all their lies and the things that they've done but I can see them all in their tainted dark eyes and they think that getting their hair done or their skin done or abusing people will make them more interesting and maybe they'll start to matter but they won't.
YOU ARE READING
Bleeding Hearts
Poetry"You either get it down on paper or jump off a bridge." - Charles Bukowski Just snippets of stories I can't seem to get out of my head. All cover credit goes to the wonderful @mydearcc
