souls are like fraying jeans
When I say, I love you
are the words dead, hallow and filled with nothing instead
In a world where the tears have all leaked away
drifted and dropped in the translucency of day
And no one even knew or what to say
Where has my mind run off to
down the dark alleys of night
Into the rented bedrooms filled with dark desires
where all my fantasies has taken flight
disguised in the shape and form of my eyes
Deep inside my patched heart
cracked and tainted and pieced apart
resides, a packed up box of chocolate and lullaby
like a music box that finally cranked away
And these are the moments, enslaved and fray
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