Teeth

I have a smile when i'm walking now
Ripped papers and glass on the ground
Needles in my legs
And my heads filled with sludge
Rub my teeth with mud

And I have seen faces and figures on the door
Faces and figures on the floor

I know every story has its holes
I know that everybody has goals
But words don't understand the meaning of the message
It's just the readers mind to figure out the lesson
If everyday was a brand new story
Why does it always feel like the same?
If every day has a new beginning
Why does it feel like everyday is the ending?

Words don't
They don't really affect me
I'm beautiful no matter who accepts me
Everyone has a sin up in their own sleeves
Whats the point in calling them sins if it's what we need?



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