Saturday 16 October 2010 photo 1/2
|
I open my eyes, but I still manage to dream
This cold bathroom floor, now just feels like home to me
I stumble to the mirror, and I naturally start to clean
But my body's scorned with marks, that say "these aren't the last lines that I'll see.."
So please cut this string, attached to my wrists
Buried in my shaking palm, I hold this evil in my fist
I relive my pain, with every scar
It's a battle field of memories, that just won't go away, for me...
Annons