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skeletons dig up their own graves to bring themselves back alive why is that the living are mostly the ones who want to die?
cracked bricks on the alleyway of her childhood streets graffiti spelling out her mother's name in black and white spray paint gray puddles made just for her by god's laughing tears descending down her way.
how lonely can she feel? and how much can she take? her orange turtleneck kept her desolation locked in her heart the fabric strong enough to keep it in as she latched on her red skirt ripping the side in half.
oh no, she's crying gasoline again get the fire she wants to burn in the flames in peace leave her be her soaked eyes will dry up tomorrow just leave her be.
don't feel lonely, it's almost halloween she told herself with her chin up as she walked the bleakness of yesterday's weather feeling ever so tender.
