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the strumming of an out of tuned guitar
brings you back 3 years ago to your old home
then you fell asleep with all your friends voices in your head
and it was like you never saw me before
the whole scene writhes as you trade in your life
you can hear every word spoken to you
you cry as you cover yourself with the tears of your broken heart
and the breaking hearts of your friends don't mean much to you
but a carton of cigarettes.
:iconkilleasytargets:

Author's Comments

thinking about some of my friend's problems.

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July 25
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