He's got fasting black lungs
Made of clothes splintered shardes
They're the kind that will talk
through wheezing of coughs
And I hear him
Every night in every pore
Every time it just makes me want to
Breathe without an answer
Free from all in shame
Must I hide?
Cause I'll never
Never sleep alone
Look at how they flock to him
To an aisle of open sores
He
(
Read more... )