Sawtooth Grin Sometimes She Tasted Like Burnt Plastic Smells
I tried again last night but you held your breath like a
f..cking champ the solitude of without you is a welcome
breath of stagnant air was I the last thing on your mind?
I turned away to lose you whispering words of longing
devotion and these sheets are screaming youll rest uneasy
this time around my valentine your silence is shoveling
dirt in your grave regret is my only keepsake a faint
momento of your bitter skin sleep well tonight and know
that I wait
