i stumble, and i crumble (this fortress fades)
when lashes slick with (rainorsweat,
it doesn't matter anymore)
Blink in my direction
(it was just my imagination,
just my imagination).
and Pictures of You
ricochet; making 90 degree angles
within the curves of my skull
and surfacing only
at that place hovering halfheartedly
between sleep and morning time-
and finding me awake &
licking strawberry flavored lips
(but, but i don't wear make-up).
i taste spun sugar the color of cotton
in my mouth and, and I sing
but Boy, for you, I would scream.