Could hold me up from this
This liquid misery
Running down my hips
I have only razor tipped nails
And sandpaper sheets
No vice could heal me tonight
No arms can keep me safe
No vodka could keep me warm
I am under attack
And my attacker
Calls my bones her home
No kiss no blunt no shot
Could evict her
If it wasn't for sandpaper sheets
And razor blade nails
She would always be here.
No comments:
Post a Comment