Author Information
ANGRY
I made up my own game. So scream you, out from behind the bitter ache heavy on the memory, you need most still want love, kiss a hot wet light bulb, smooth and delicate not without affection, not alone.
Love, if you love me, lie next to me and instead of wishing it would get better baby you're seeing that you just get angrier.
Love at the lips was touch as sweet as I could bear and it's good that I'm not angry. Love is a scent.
Sometimes I go about pitying myself cry when you cry, run where you run love when you love represent the ashes that you leave behind.
I poked him with an angry stick and instead of wishing that your exploits book had shoulder baby you're seeing that you're sinking over time.
About suffering they were never wrong I'm not angry it's never been enough it tears you up inside. You see through me don't you there is a wolf in me.
