skinny i feel i've been trained worthless
no scapegoat, it's not your fault.

love ignored, inverted
the cros and scarecrows are playing with god.

the dangling yarn, the hissing, luaghing so suddenly impressed with the sound of your own voice
the screams, moaninh,
you find yourself commiting far away from friends
an empty house, or somewhere
to feel good about the blood you've on your hands.

shallow eyes make shallow friends
find comfort in the sex that's been kept warm
by the ones you love, or show concern.
what's it to you?
who go