March
Wednesday 7 April 2010 photo 1/1
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When do you stop coughing up lies like phlegm?
Every word you utter,
every sentence you stutter
flows straight down the gutter
with me wishing you were a shutupper.
But this poetic license I use to justify
your every inaction,
it's ending faster than I'd like.
But in the end, nothing matters more,
or less.
Nothing at all.
You were the world to me.
All the pain and heartaching beauty.
Every sunset bloody red,
every autumn raindrop on my face,
every glass of beer.
So why does love get sick,
and why do you start coughing?
Lies like phlegm,
just more repulsive.
Annons
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