Sleepy rambling or a whiskey spell and you unknowingly let me peek inside.
I have always been attracted by scars. Darkness to darkness, dust to dust.
Maybe we both want the same thing. The need for that balm. Someone who knows how to touch us. Sore wounds, never to heal. The need to forget and hope for a while.
Maybe I see what I want to. I'm willing to take that chance.
Tell me, isn't it tiresome to keep your guard up all the time? Isn't it tiresome?
I should know.
In the end, everything is going to be all right ... or not.
No comments:
Post a Comment