joshwa

The red paint reflects
A secret~
The tigers bite mark,
A lie.

And on these streets
I used to drive,

Because i was too afraid to walk,
I felt so alive.

The big, silver streetlamp gleam.
The rain caressing these little bits
Of secret skin.

Lips shimmer in the starlight.


My arms wrapped tight
Around myself, and

How id sneak back
Through those holy stares....
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The candles touch.
Gentle burn.

The flames lucid
Reflection in the steaming bath.

Condensation creeping up the
Mirror hides the scars.



A ceiling guards the stars.



I am staring into you
Like a suicide barrel, or

A blade that would slide
So smoothly through

This water. Bleeding ink.
Smudges in stead of a smile.

Clean satisfied bodies, fresh
Linens, and sleep.



Shatter this if you...
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