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| Cursive Miscellaneous Pulse i'll never go back there don't make me go back there... now that god is an athiest finally i can sleep at night in a hotel room with holes in the curtains i shivered as she slid up my leg she could convince me a hundred hail mary's she whispered "dear boy, your god is me" i'll never go back there don't make me go back there... i...don't...sleep...in this dead cold bed in a hotel room the color of her skin holes in the drapes spray beams of light strangling lovers, were we kidding each other gasping for breath, in poisonous lies in a hotel room (it was my second communion) is that your blood cleansing my veins if three little angels (would peak in these curtains) they'd whisper "dear boy, your mouth was too warm" was too warm was too warm |
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