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Description
This phone call is procrastination in the extreme. The static and breathing on the opposite end reminds me of memories I had laid in hand dug graves, and not intended on visiting, ever again. She screams selfish feeding on the corpse of compulsive lies and still starving for attention. He is riddled down to bones, and he is just convenience, and he will not regret. So we smoke and smoke these cigarettes we promised not to taste, and we drink and drink the nights away, dwindling to waste. We are building ourselves up to tear ourselves down. when we fall we seek comfort in those we hope will catch us and hold us tightly. Deceit is a form of self preservation, and we mislead ourselves the most, all the while pretending that things just happen and we have no control over our pathetic lives. Throw up, shut down, lose weight, push, pull, need need need. You won't find yourself in those scars you wear proudly, so you can stop staring at your wrists dear. I see right through your tears so how does my fist taste? We set phasers to destroy. And in the hours of gray between dusk and dawn when your mind won't stop moving, and the gears refuse to stick and you realise things you would rather not know, you will smell my hair on your pillow and taste me in your mouth, and you will miss my skin and yearn for the feel of a body beneath yours, but you won't feel a thing.

Description
This phone call is procrastination in the extreme. The static and breathing on the opposite end reminds me of memories I had laid in hand dug graves, and not intended on visiting, ever again. She screams selfish feeding on the corpse of compulsive lies and still starving for attention. He is riddled down to bones, and he is just convenience, and he will not regret. So we smoke and smoke these cigarettes we promised not to taste, and we drink and drink the nights away, dwindling to waste. We are building ourselves up to tear ourselves down. when we fall we seek comfort in those we hope will catch us and hold us tightly. Deceit is a form of self preservation, and we mislead ourselves the most, all the while pretending that things just happen and we have no control over our pathetic lives. Throw up, shut down, lose weight, push, pull, need need need. You won't find yourself in those scars you wear proudly, so you can stop staring at your wrists dear. I see right through your tears so how does my fist taste? We set phasers to destroy. And in the hours of gray between dusk and dawn when your mind won't stop moving, and the gears refuse to stick and you realise things you would rather not know, you will smell my hair on your pillow and taste me in your mouth, and you will miss my skin and yearn for the feel of a body beneath yours, but you won't feel a thing.