Maybe if she spoke a little more i would know who she is.
But she stands uncomfortably with jutting bones and leftover hair, stealing words that are not hers.
Mayber if she looked at me i would know what she was thinking.
But her eyes are locked shut and unkind, sunken into her shrunken skull.
But she stands uncomfortably with jutting bones and leftover hair, stealing words that are not hers.
Mayber if she looked at me i would know what she was thinking.
But her eyes are locked shut and unkind, sunken into her shrunken skull.
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