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The bruises fade away with tears.

Their worthless weight, so golden.

Pathetic pleas on wasted dreams.

My dirty hands are holding.


Just turn your head and whisper shyly.

Careful not to show her.

Ugliness will bear its grin.

Her sickness on its shoulders.


Rest your eyes to fake sane hope.

Find strength to taste life’s whoring.

Awake to realize you’re the joke.

Your knees are black, from crawling


In judgment sits my bitter spit

These lips are tasting life.

Best pretend the suit will fit.

Best swallow, with a smile.

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