they're feasting on me. on my wrinkled spirit.
seeking out any faint presence of a unique characteristic.
they feed on individuality until all that's left is one of them.
they're feasting on me, enveloping me.
i live in between them and me. they've eaten enough that i've become seperate from myself.
but not enough that i've gone lost amongst them.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
"i live in between them and me. they've eaten enough that i've become seperate from myself.
ReplyDeletebut not enough that i've gone lost amongst them." Wow baby