Whore Machine.

you know you're better. i know you're not. but for some reason i still like how that pizza stain on your shirt matches your orange socks. i'm the newest victim as you hit them. such a precious gem and you can't make it back for me. it's all gone; consumed by the whore machine. one of these days i'll find out if you meant those things you said. all those times. why can't i do it first? you're carrying me down the road in suck me fuck me mode. i'm too stunned to manage speech. within an arm's length i'm just out of reach. feast your eyes on my envisionment. such a fragile soul. you can be anything; anything at all. anyone you want because they all look alike. then again you can never tell.. after all, we're human aren't we? can you recognise the masterpiece? in such a forcibly delicate way you lie straight through your teeth. inducing the drug you gave me the wrong dosage. i think you unplugged me. love michelle.