I can put on any outfit, any mask and fool the wisest of men

i’ve got to many images and words in my own head a part of me

A poem about rhyme A poem abou time What can you say About their little fray Thee is never time

They come and go with us We see them nor hear them We feel them nor

I’ve probably had about ten shots now trying to drown out her memory We left under harsh words, tears, and shouts

The constant ruckus The constant noise When will it stop When will it cease When will i finaly

Thief and dark angel what a pair they make Her hiding in the dark stealing their secrets Him in the open with

They say she died tragically It’s sad to see a

splish, splash floating in my own blood so many cuts that i’ve actually