The Violent Years
By Autotomy
We don’t really think about showing them Battered and bruised It becomes more of a ritual That you get used to Broken hearts, broken glass Everything must be smashed Beauty cannot last Does this mean we have no love? Even if we do clean ourselves up It became entertainment After awhile Broken bodies, shattered minds Silent nights not tonight Feelings cannot last Even after being taken to the edge I still seem to have some piss left in me You won’t be smiling much when I begin Again Broken bodies, broken glass Your heart shaped visage cannot last This is why I have to smashI wrote this about a couple that on a usual basis proceeds to beat the living snot out of each other. Verbally and Physically thusly the violent years Written March 20th, 2002 © on Mar 20 2002 10:09 AM PST 10 • 0
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"We don’t really think about showing them..."