Words, words, words
They cluttered the gutter of my mind.
I rend them to pieces, tore them apart, shredded each bit
I let the ink bleach its mark to the back of my tongue,
the roof of my mouth
I abused every line, thought, and word
I could get my filthy bitten lips around.
[Its no surprise when I choke]
[And how i wished]
I could remember how to swallow these words.
Forget them, push them to the back of my mind.
[Because, mon cher]
Whats the point of words?
Once you have the meaning, you forget the word.
[Just like how you forget me]