Maybe if I bleed enough the taste of you will disappear,
maybe, if I hurt enough i will forget the way you smelt
the taste of your lips,
all the times you said " I love you"
all the times you didn't mean it
im left here, picking up the pieces, of the heart that beat for you
im alone here, hearing nothing but your voice
feeling nothing,
but the absence of you
and the sting of my wrists.