She wants us to get things off of our chests? okay, how about my family is fucked up how about all i could really care for is a shot of some meth how about im going so fucking crazy that im talking to myself and writing in some stupid journal no one is going to even read?!
I miss the easy flow as it traveled through my veins I miss how happy I was with good reason, how relaxed I felt, the cough was the best part though....
YOU ARE READING
lives of the scarred
PoetryYou see us everyday, little do you know our little secrets. Sooner or later though, they're going to catch up with us
