Hands in my pockets just trying to block off the soar air causing wounds in my fingered flesh;
my feelings didn’t expect to express.
Confessions of an already shattered love,
Yes I’m trying to dry the tears from above.
Yes and I still taste the blood as a result of the meanings which you lied
and the wishes you spoke for me;
they already died and they carry off into the shattered sink.
And now istead of “drink”, I drown…
The whole time you would throw a door into my face;
My anger was the one who would make my heart race.
My bones would break;
they would bathe themselves into a blood destroyed lake…
The confessions; they’re were already present,
But the love inside me made it look absent.
Your love lied to me,
and my love was blind to see…