as I bag my tears ready to roll
stuck between a line that bleeds emotions in public
Having torn a fabric of joy
in a notion of not to care
yet with a stack of care.
she awakened her soul in torment
pulling piles of make-up
begging veil my heart
having painted thorns over it
& streamed a nail show.
she still had a vice over me
shuttered to speak clear
bad intentions infused
her voice still murders my joy
intoxicating my thoughts with a need to caress her.
