She wanders,
guided by her lost soul.
She spills arts,
coming from her pure heart;
She writes words no one can understand,
yet she speaks it like it was kept in her mind
for so long, just waiting for someone to find it.
She is a masterpiece of her own,
but she has a heart of stone.

What does a person do,
When she's let someone in,
And regrets it.

But someone's locked her heart,
*From the outside.

It'll rain tears of sacrifice,
as the witching hour eclipses with my heartbeat.
Thuh-thump.
I can see shadows that don't belong here.
They seek the throat of my poetry.
Thuh-Thump.
If six months stole the kiss of Jack Frost,
six months can stitch our love back together.
Thuh--hh....... thum--p...
I will die, every day,
waiting for you if I have to.
.

And this feeling,
*I don't wanna stop feeling it.