Scars and Stories

She wonders how people talk about her to people who don’t know her

How shall I list the ways:

She’s the reason why my smile radiates with words that doesn’t get the job done so you’d have to see her in person

I talk as if I fell head over heels every time I said her name, you’d think I was a villain from a Home Alone movie

not enough to pay for.

I took out a loan,

declined they said

not enough sanity for you to withdraw.

and why doesn't anyone want to talk to me

so that I can play my voice

The sun never rises or sets

when working at a sweatshop.

It's just day or not,

work or no work.

We work over the table

for under the table 6$ an hour for 12 hours.

I just go home just to see the sun rise on the other end of the world.

underneath your fucking skull.

I'm in love with this girl.