Parker Posey
By DikeMent
Cry. Scream. Brandish your bandages and sewn-up-skin seams. You asked for a beating, He gave it to you, How does that feel? Past today and tomorrow becomes present, I hope to hear your voice. What's gone is gone for good, And now here's what I brandish...my choice. Up against a wall, My adrenaline is racing. My heart's been sliced in half, Comatose, it appears I'm dazing. Grab me an envelope, I'll write you a letter, Telling you I'm too exposed. This air is cold. My heart is cold. Grab me a microphone, I'll scream you a letter, Telling you I'm out on my own (and so are you, ironically). This life is cold. My life is cold. Written April 21st, 2002 © on Apr 20 2002 05:48 PM PST 20 • 0 • 1
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"Cry...."