The simplest of terms
in the plain forms of crime
The justice of many
deny all your views
I listen in ways
that seem almost childish
I wish I could be
like her lovely hands
that crave to touch your back
and grab onto your waist.
It seems like a nice way
to disapate
your smile that never
fades.
Even mirrors reflect
the pureness of you.
It's a way to make do
with what I have left--
Nothing
Nothing
Maybe someday
the mirror will reflect my
ugly shine
and you'll see me as perfect
just like before-
Walking along train tracks
hoping to be used up completely
once more...
Sold...Sold away...