|Something I'm pretty proud of. There's a lot to be improved, but it's pretty good. I've been experimenting with my style, and this piece helped me decide a lot c:|
Selfish.Skinny love is whenSelfish. by Glo-stikz
two people need another person,
someone to trust,
and they find each other
and think it's love.
Someone will grow out of needing
but the other
likely will not,
and still need it.
Hunger for it.
Hence, skinny love,
is something in disguise.
A wolf in sheep's clothing.
It is most definitely not
when two people love each other,
but are too shy to say it,
but show it.
Or however they all phrase it.
Skinny love is not that, not at all.
I've had my experience with skinny love.
That ended horribly.
It ruined my life,
not because I was the one who still needed someone,
that was him,
but because everyone made a big deal about it.
I feel guilt.
Not because he hurt me,
although I deserved it,
not because I hurt him,
although he deserved it,
but because I should have realized
it was skinny love.
I guess I just didn't know.
I think the song 'Skinny Love'
the amazing song,
brought me to my realizations.
And I swore,
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,mechanic by saltwaterlungs
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
.i often ask myself questions. by oaklungs
and answer them too,
maybe tell your
that i'm the wolf in the woods, i just
saw red and couldn't help it, what
can i say i've got a
temper, i couldn't wait
to grip her neck inside
my jaws n shake it, snap
it clean, cracked like a twig,
you see she was a bitch she was a
whore, she had it
coming, with her
sweet laugh and her lips, her
swaying hips inside, she carried
a rifle in her cloak, she wanted
my pelt for the angry winter,
and her old gran? i sucked
the meat from
her lame ribs like she'd have done
the same to mine, i licked my
chops and got in
had good sweet dreams until
that axe man, that old drunk,
who thought he had some bigger balls
came stumbling in through her front
they found his guts
on the hall floor,
and i can still
smell it a
but what i'm saying
kids, the moral is,
there's nothing little bout the amount
of red you're gonna see in
life, it's all about whether or not
you've got the stones
to fucking stomach it