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their laughter still lingers after the silence
You crash into me like a suicide bomber
bleeding vodka and breast milk
from your pores
we’ve all got a sob story
and yours knows how to break my walls
11pm cups of tea
cigarette tears
and old school rock on the radio
splitting our hearts apart
We’ve all got tales of lost children
never mind that mine all died in my womb
I’d be a mother in a different life
I wrap my arms around you
like I can contain the religion within
that speaks in tongues of devils and sin
But you’re no angel
and I’ve heard the tales
slipped through the innocence of your voice
and into the void of truth
between the words you’re not saying
That your soul got lost in the debris
as you tore yourself apart
for another coin trapped in the clear
bottle of escape
the blood of innocents splattered on the wall
between your bruised skin
and vodka eyes
that has never bought a better life
You crashed into me like a suicide bomber
and I fell into the broken pieces
of your reality
with the children on the wall
the halls of this house now absent
of childish laughter
toys scattered like memories
you couldn’t hold onto
Because broken bones speak louder
than love
and no amount of bleach
will ever clean the blood
from these walls
never mind that most of its yours
© Indie Adams 2015
bleeding vodka and breast milk
from your pores
we’ve all got a sob story
and yours knows how to break my walls
11pm cups of tea
cigarette tears
and old school rock on the radio
splitting our hearts apart
We’ve all got tales of lost children
never mind that mine all died in my womb
I’d be a mother in a different life
I wrap my arms around you
like I can contain the religion within
that speaks in tongues of devils and sin
But you’re no angel
and I’ve heard the tales
slipped through the innocence of your voice
and into the void of truth
between the words you’re not saying
That your soul got lost in the debris
as you tore yourself apart
for another coin trapped in the clear
bottle of escape
the blood of innocents splattered on the wall
between your bruised skin
and vodka eyes
that has never bought a better life
You crashed into me like a suicide bomber
and I fell into the broken pieces
of your reality
with the children on the wall
the halls of this house now absent
of childish laughter
toys scattered like memories
you couldn’t hold onto
Because broken bones speak louder
than love
and no amount of bleach
will ever clean the blood
from these walls
never mind that most of its yours
© Indie Adams 2015
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