I believe in scraping my skin off…my flesh.
Maybe it’ll grow anew and make me whole again…lest I remember what the fuck that feeling is anymore.
Life’s most definitely a bitch and I’m quite good at adopting that mystique..fuck.
Fuck all the things that made me cut…the triggers..ha! love.
Love’s for idiots who think too much and long to feel
Feel you say? That too is for idiots and yes I’m guilty of idiocy.
I don’t talk, I’m tough
Like the roasted skin of a x-mas pig that’s waiting to be eaten…chicharon yum!
How she made every fucking statement a damn exclamation and pissed me the fuck off.
There’re two sides to me in every realm, some I despise and others…well I adapt to.
God knows I really am alone and more so lonely in this life…saving grace Nyssa.
She’s the best thing I ever let happen to me and thank god and my mother for her.
They say you pay for your sins when you bear offspring.
I pray for mine to bounce off her like those shiny multi colored balls the kids fancy these days.
She’s a leader, rebellious to the core like her mama.
She’s my saving grace.
I wear my chaplet from the Vatican like my shield, to wear off those blasted things that haunt me from ever since.
I know they’re around like a scent that catches your nose with heat.
They see me and I see them as well…we both exist in the same plane.
I’ve stopped wondering or better yet worrying about those things…they’re trivial
Eventhough I know one day we’ll be in the same place, same space, same state.
No time soon god willing.
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