her god, is a dying, selfish star she is only comforted when the whole world is staring at her chest... she never knows the whole truth...so she calls it a lie she calls herself a friend, but she is a bitch on a gypsy road. she thinks she knows everything about me, but she only knows what I've painted black on the outside. she doesn't forgive, she doesn't forget, she prosecutes she protects her heart, with a bullet-proof soul; somehow she's "better than everyone else" she is missing sleeping crude and probably will meet me at the crime scene. im ready to pin her down and beat her into our own seperate ways. no more stealing cars. he is vile. insane. obsessive stop uh call calling my ass. i don't need a lonesome werewolf. im fiercly afraid of the po po, but once my head stops hurting...I can handle it.