Dirty mirror.
The light bulb flickers.
I watch the paint dry.
I’m too cold to shiver.
Belt the walls.
Choke.
Cigarettes help my cough.
I was drinking last night.
I can drink to that.
Toast the glass to all the lost souls, like it changes the facts.
I’ve been wondering what mistakes am I doomed to make? A tragedy story, yet to be written. Authored by my daughter with depressive symptoms. Manic at night, and dead in the morning.
You’ll be just like your father. No breath for forgiveness. Think, fuck it, why bother? There’s nothing left for me to give ‘em. Leave you desperate for healing because they’ll suck you dry till death seems appealing.
But that’s not what I want for you. I want the best for my children.
What did Arcade Fire say? We’re just a reflection of a reflection? That’d almost be poetic if it wasn’t complete bullshit.
lol
|