Locked by BreathingPsyAir
scars, will heal, soon,
this drug in us, spins the earth, down.
better, it surely, i don’t follow,
i live low,
children shouldn’t play with dead things,
so your lonely sad eyes,
drop it, it’s dead,
we dropped down, and took the body home.
scars, like chopping daggers
see you’ll never walk
sad eyes, cry crimson, blood