He comes inside with no bleeding or screaming. Slaps her in the face saying, “Bitch, you ain’t a virgin.” Was it all a mirage or a simple household lie? Some things are taken, others misplaced. Others, stolen. Sans invitation, just an unquenchable sickness. Hah, like that would stop them.
The problem is that once he came inside he never came out. No, not completely. Not entirely. So, tell me, how does she go on as if nothing has happened? Coal rimmed eyes mask some inner pain as she thrusts herself back into the world with a smile on her face, and a dusting of coins. She has grown so sick of secrets, yet so accustomed to being burdensome. Of course it hasn't changed her, because that'll be easier for them to swallow. Whatever works for them. It is all about them. Whatever. Whatever.
The problem is that once he came inside he never came out. No, not completely. Not entirely. So, tell me, how does she go on as if nothing has happened? Coal rimmed eyes mask some inner pain as she thrusts herself back into the world with a smile on her face, and a dusting of coins. She has grown so sick of secrets, yet so accustomed to being burdensome. Of course it hasn't changed her, because that'll be easier for them to swallow. Whatever works for them. It is all about them. Whatever. Whatever.
Convinced of an existence no greater than a black hole, he threw himself inside and planted some wicked seed that's yet to leave her. Like a night-light, the sheen of his devilish grin keeps her eyelids from falling. He's laughing now from some far off plateau, with each cackle that seed begins to blossom.
I don’t deserve to wear white, so I’ll take it in black. When the clock strikes midnight I die inside for the second time. Twelve just isn’t my number.
