i'm looking into all these mirrors,
covered in sin.
i'm looking into all these mirrors,
washing my skin.
i'm looking into all these mirrors,
disappearing like wind.
YOU ARE READING
deadroses || poetry
Poetry"we had a vision though, now we dead roses" now, why did she send them? these broken down, wilted, beat up, rotten-looking flowers.
b.g.t
i'm looking into all these mirrors,
covered in sin.
i'm looking into all these mirrors,
washing my skin.
i'm looking into all these mirrors,
disappearing like wind.
