InsaneJournal

Tongue in cheek till a hole burns out her mouth, and fingers crossed like the promise of cub scouts, and we know that the picture in her heart shaped locket is far from an inanimate object. She’s as dark as the blood pulsing under her skin, still afraid of the boogey man under her bed, and we know that the ashes in the urn was a person, and we never should have burned him. Shake it, shake it like you bouts to get paid, Boom swaggaboom, like you gots a peg leg. I’m game, you’re game; you’re the main attraction, And the way you fit your jeans it makes me ready for action. Break it down to a fraction, I’m doing decimal subtraction to find a reaction.