So now I hide in piles of princely orange peels it feels the way you told me how it'd always feel. Words hurt more then actions, we've been taught this since we were young but unlike nursery rhymes, we can't sing to it. Birds sing, but do they really know the lyrics? Or are they just hoping that someone will see the hurtful cries behind their sweet, soft songs? I feed wolves to keep them quiet but they never keep their jaws sealed. This happens continuously, in everyone. You try to keep your head low so you can't capture a bullet, but when you get to inquisitive and curious you'll take a peek at the on coming enemy every now and again. This may seem like all fun and games but the enemies are playing one to. You take your last peek at the oncoming traffic and before you know it you'll be on the ground with a bullet hole in the middle of your forehead and before you can think "how the fuck did that get there?" your already on a one way train to hell.


I wish I'd done lit.