As someone I trusted, I handed you the knife.
Marked myself for each incision.
Spilled my guts willingly
to you.
I wish I could dissect your mind,
-Give you back the pieces of your heart that are left behind
sticking on my skin like parasites,
eating away my shell
and reminding me of that night.
How warm it would have been
to wake up next to you.
To pass the day by the way that lovers do…
But it ends, all in the same.
More of a massacre than Love Games.
Covered in blood, we lay in the dirt.
Wipe our hands clean on each others’ shirts.
This doesn’t change a thing, I swear.
We’ll piece each other back together in strips…
Once I can get your taste off of my lips.
… …
