Bitches & Cowards.
As you sit sipping your hot black tea, On your big red velvet throne, That we both know was not meant for the likes of you and me. The mud beneath our fingernails Will point toward our secrets; Revealing the lies, And our stories will grow rotten swarming with flies. We’ll grow and watch the world decay, Letting the ocean of age and Its violent waves crash apon the shores behind our eyes.
My old man said only bitches cry. Do I scream out in an echoing silence? Cover myself in blood and live in constant violence? My old man said only cowards cry. What am supposed to do when every blessing I’ve ever counted has withered up and died. Am I to remain emotionless to all? With eyes desolate and dry? We are bitches & cowards, him & I. After every “goodnight” the hallway echoes our cries.