wilt thou make a fool of me who hath thy existence granted worth?

treasonous, treasonous tongue.
and treacherous touches.

There was a time you'd let me know,
 

what's real and going on below,

but now you never show it to me, do you? 

Now the joy of my world is in Zion.

my heart jumps a little every time you say 'trust'.

It's all caffiene free faux punk fatigue, said it all before.


Yours,
       Erin