I've lost all count of the amount of lies I spill through my slurred words. There's nothing that I pray for more than to divide our lives just so I don't intertwine anymore webs in this spill full attempt at a beautiful life. And that's been my problem exactly.
I wanna filter my life with your purity, your knowledge. I find that, quite beautiful.
But you've become second nature. I am so custom to you like water at 3am, the smell of fresh hair, like my blood shot eyes reflecting through my bathroom mirror.
I suppose it's irony that gravity has become our analogy.
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