intertwined thoughts with yours
stitched up wounds are open once again
appreciation of my silence
will be held no more
so close to your desires
but i will not encourage my blood
to be spilled for indignity
and i would cry but it would kill all that i know
still utter deceit enters my flesh
and i contemplate the end as i grasp for breath
bearing bloody memories while kneeling
down letting my insides pour out
and my enraged memories won't let me open
these wounds anymore |