Testo The Hand That Used To Feed Rialto
Itâs so hard to understand in a field of also-rans to be someone else that they no longer need, to be smothered by the hand that used to feed.
One little slip was all it took, to put a bullet in your foot. You didnât think to stop and look, but now you're sober. In a single paragraph they turned your life into a farce; when you saw the photographs, the light was so cruel.
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When you let them in your home you were naked and alone. Theyâd been carving your tombstone since they first met you.
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