letra de cassadaga marissa death, father smiled at us - elizabeth whitington
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we contort and connect with blood that we spill
on bathroom floors
i pick out a photo
the one they’ll remember me by
news coverage
my face burns into the cathode ray tubes
wasting a smile on people i can’t prove my love to
i’ll be better in the morning
but i say that every night
i’ll be better in my next life
the songs will fail you
there’s no poetry that can save your broad shoulders
no words to pray to
a metaphor can’t make the sun smilе upon you
it’s all just fiction
and even the pеrfect ones you create will sooner or later be dashed against the rocks of a disappointed face
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