Thursday, April 15, 2004

sick.
rocks in the pit of my stomach,
but the worst part is knowing that it's
all
my fault.
sick.
clots with blue dots pooled seamlessly
on my arm.
i couldn't say i was sorry enough times for it to matter.
sick.
you can call me crazy but
it's not enough for me.
there's never been enough for me.
sick.
scrapes and scabs and scars,
it's all the same sc's.
i could kiss them all a million times
but there's not getting better for me.
sick.
kiss me, kiss them,
it's all in your kiss.
lips speak the words of wisdom,
they beg to peel back and show the truth:
we all know i'm sick.
i just hope you love it as much as your
lips lie.
*bettie* at 9:54 AM