Just Face It

Your crazy, now I think i'm not. Do not make me think it is poetics suicide like all my others went before. it is always on your mind, and i'm, some after thought, your after birth. You left behind to find. It was not I who wrapped that bloody rope around your neck. And after the medication, wears off. So I can begin again too understand you. I spoke once to thick lost English, and to whom, and now for what. Remember when you squeeze it and it gives you all it has because it must, your wicked smile just squeezes it for more.