The Ghost of You
My bloodstream is full of cement, My bones are the consistency of the 0 calorie jello I prayed would make me skinny. My tongue is tainted with the taste of you, and oh god, you think it's funny.
You're the smell of stomach acid on my finger tips, You look like skin wrapped ribcages and yellow teeth. You're ghost lingers after dinner, and lulls me to sleep.
A. G. Woelfersheim
QuelleLizenz:Public domain (author dedication)