Locked Away

Her smile can hide a wealth of lies
and all of them in blood
I hear his words behind his words
not all of them are good
the more I listen, listen hard
the more he wants to play
He follows her along this old road
this oldfashioned way

this play place
this familiar place
this one place
down the hall
we walk down the hall and he is looking
he is looking for her
red lipped
self to come out of hiding

where as I am only pink lipped blue eyed too blue, not blue, but starry starry van gogh blue
locked in
locked away
wondering what will happen to me
(you know I do)
can’t you hear him
can’t you hear him when I hear him?

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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