There is a saltiness to your face
and an awkwardness to your grace.
A callousness to your blackened skin,
and a refined serration to each word unhinged.
You mock me, with silence – though
I will admit, I am surprised by my own
lack of;
anything.
How did that line go?
Did you kiss your knuckles? Before they touched my cheek?
Love is just a word.
I am the verb.
Would you cross your sorry heart and hope to die for me?
Guns and ammunition.
Two very different things.
Guns and ammunition, make bullets out of you.Another line, from another song. That was once beautiful.
Like you were, once.
Before you lost your soul somewhere between Washington and
and a Casino..
The girl I met.
The one wrapped in red ribbon, the one with skin like fucking
opium. The one who’s mouth made me want to
abandon all logic.
The…
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