Word Hoard

Eight to one. The painful art of waking up my tongue
Late to come cause I’ve been coughing up a fragile lung
Ache my bones. The needle dragging is predictable
Eight to none. It’s never coming down to breaching skulls
There’s no true love defending a sharpened edge
Doubling down while you’re hedging bets
Shy to speak only when control is out of reach
I can see that these are lessons no one asked to teach
Just a leech. You tipped the scales expecting more from less
Overreach. Nothing ventured nothing gained I guess
There’s no true love defending a sharpened edge
Doubling down while you’re hedging bets
Justice doesn’t take providence’s place
Out for blood when you’ve got none in the game
Justice doesn’t take providence’s place
Scratching pictures but you’re not in the frame