| because it may make us weak because it may makes us weak we bathe in our own sadness since death is only once, complete done with, once it is done and in those eyes the same simple color as mine, i could not find a moment a simple gesture, lingering one small thought of sorrow for her change makes people go scream ramped on not being the same and we welcome it, because we love it the gossip and that hair, the same smell it might as well have been from my own head burned to ash, left in dust left in pain, burned for the wind to carry carry away from the scene of the crime we love to reminisce in all of it roll in the splendor of the news take it to heart and wear it on both sleeves and that skin, left charcoal colored taken away from the milky content it was born with all because little boys like to play with matches all because it may make ussss weak. |