LucyLooStudios

Look into my eyes and count to ten, And soak me in as if I'm heroin. I want you to listen to me for once; To give me your prophetic touch. Change the complexion of my flesh Because there is no reason for me to confess Of who I am, lying to myself; Trying to be somebody else. The longing of the floor, so bloody that I can taste it. I need this euphemism to be my new replacement. Put it up to my head: Pull the trigger. I am nothing more than a scavenger's last dinner. A gun filled with ugliness Will quickly show how everything is meaningless. So I've come to recognize That there it only one compromise: Please, Be blunt