Your looking in my eyes just to check your hair.
Do I like this part of you because I put it there?

I'm so fucking bland I can't taste.
I don't want to become your blank slate.
And I feel I'm so very late,

in telling you; your, our, insides are full of sores.
I'm screaming at my hands baby, because they look just like yours.

Missed anything?
livejournal - 2005-03-02
romantic love - 2005-03-02
caitlin and i - 2005-02-28
the backyard - 2005-02-28
together - 2005-02-27