Thursday, April 3, 2003


you bit your nails again,
you can't light matches anymore, you
complain about the weather and
how you are so sore, and
i hate you.
amazing, you're so well rehearsed
on every single verse, with
nothing but a metallic smile to
show me how you don't feel
at all.
you look so tired,
i spit caffeine into your veins
and try to help but
all my arteries are on the wrong
side of my skin