Glass

Pope

Cover me in glass
Cars move past
Your eyes begin to bleed
I don’t feel a thing

Words leak through the cracks
Red stains the glass
The ringing in my ears
Will go away next year

You want to touch her
But you don’t
You want to hurt her
But you wont

What is this pain
Eating my brain
My art/arms
My art/arms

You want to touch her
But you don’t
You want to hurt her
But you wont

Tracker

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