Hidden faces in my walls
Tell me what to think.
Invisible hand prints in the ground,
I swear that they can blink.
Still I'm looking at the floor,
And talking to the air.
I slowly close my eyes,
And I wish that you were there.
Continuously I hurt myself
By listening to the lies
That everyone is telling me.
I guess its time for our goodbyes?
To listen to them or hear it from you,
Who should I trust more?
People who have nothing to gain
By the fact that your a whore?
I tell the facts to the wall,
And the hand prints slowly blink
As if they were all listening
As if they all could think.
I shake my head to clear it,
But it still hurts the same.
Like the heart on my night stand.
I still feel the shame.
Author notes
Oh boy trouble! I don't know if I should belive what he hasn't told me or what his little bro says. The complecations are rediculous.
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