[4:42 p.m.] : [2003-07-19]
| Hung in your room, swaying, hoping only that you'll see. All by myself, I'm alone in such poor company. The deeper I think, the deeper I seem to sink, I can't stop the insects that are feeding, pull the needles from beneath my skin. I broke myself, shattered, tied a bow around every peice. You'll love my eyes. Have they always shown so vacantly? The more I show the less you'll want to know. I can't stop the insects that are feeding, pull the needles from beneath my skin. Now I'm on display. I am becoming. Hurt myself today. It's all for you. Do you like what I'm becoming? Cut myself today. It's all for you. I part the night, flashing, approaching as I watch you flee. Pushed through your panes. Seems I've landed quite uncomfortably. But as I pass through souls of broken glass I can't stop the insects that are feeding. Pull the needles from beneath my skin. |
