THIS SOLITUDE MAKES ME WEAK, EVEN NOW AS I SHOULD HAVE GROWN AWAY FROM IT.
I WANT TO POINT OUT ALL YOUR WRONGS, EVERYTIME I WEEP,
AND MAKE YOU SOB WITH THIS HURT I CARRY.
YOUR MOUTH IS LIKE A RAZORBLADE,
CUTTING MY SOUL TO PIECES EVERYTIME YOU OPEN IT.
About Gather |
Engagement Marketing |
Make New Friends |
Gather Points |
Advertise on Gather |
Gather Press |
Privacy |
Terms of Service |
Community Guidelines
Books | Celebs | Entertainment | Family | Food | Health | Moms | Money | News | Politics | Spirituality | Sports | Travel | Writing
Books | Celebs | Entertainment | Family | Food | Health | Moms | Money | News | Politics | Spirituality | Sports | Travel | Writing
Version 16836, "Oz"; Copyright © 2009 Gather Inc. All rights reserved.


Comments: 15