reckless-rage

It's Ironic how I fall, just to get back up again. Tongue pressed to teeth, words reverberate between mind and telephone line, Late late night it's pouring rain inside my tower of human incontinence. Somehow we were all sinners all of us non- believers. A fix to cure this ailing bitter agony. memories stained red, forbidden to touch tongue in current company. The greatest prison is of the mind - fear of rejection.. Somehow we all live a lie meet me where the roads part; you remember where we first met? Steps trudged through snow and mud and pouring rain, brought me a sanctuary built upon confusion. permanent markers trailed unmarred skin; ...