A Barbed Fence of Faces

Folder: 
December 2012

Swimming through the weighed down strangers,

walking under a swarm of flying angels,

i'm a shirt on the floor, you're on a hanger,

it was never about scoring, didn't mean much to bang her,

 

crawling under a barbed fence of faces,

walking through tires, leaving no traces,

i believe i can face this, even with my back to it,

cause once i see doubt i immediately think screw it,

 

you still make rum taste like a warm night,

drinking until she's in my sight,

if tonight i've crossed the line,

just know i always worry about time,

 

rush into swimming, crawling and walking,

always the listener, never the one talking,

once she stops stalking, begging me to kiss her,

will i finally give in and miss her?

View silver__lining's Full Portfolio