Whores

So a nice guy walks through your door.
You tell him it's lies,  that you're not a whore. He believes the sad cruel tales you tell,  of how men used you and you're broken. But what's a heart to you when given? Emotions in your grasp,  to be pulled apart, or leave them in your heart. 

Can I really believe what you say?
The blatent lies i see right through.
Maybe i'm to nice and this is the price i pay. The illusion and lies that fall through. 

The temple that you call a body.
It's been used more times than my mother. Don't blame them.  You can't blame them.  In the end it's all you.


Was it all a lie? Or did you fill with love and pull me towards you and deny? Somehow,  i feel as though our memories will stay those forever. 
Memories tied to emotions.
This is a fact, and i remember you more than anyone else. Every moment, every smell, and the ability to tell. Your voice your hair or your smile you'd cheekily bear. I loved you.  This is not fair.
My lifes ending slowly and going no where. 

Digging a burrow in my mind.
Putting all these thoughts in there.
Until one night i badger my way down once again, and pull them to the surface and I can't  let go of these things. 
All the things in my head re surface again and again..
I wish I could forget. i'm not sure if i miss you,  or it's just the questionable doubt and regret. 
Please let me forget. 

Look me in the eyes.
Look away so i see the lies.
Keep it up, and you'll spend the rest of your life asking if they want fries. 
Until everyone you love dies.
I'll be standing, and you'll be asking the whys? To understand that if you tried, we had not reached our demise. 
Fuck you, fuck your lies. 
This story is my goodbyes.