Undress me, watch my pages burn.. as I spark the flame
trash my name, drag me in the dirt, turnaround and blame me
notebook, it's time to unfold my next move..

I've got tempers for days, voices keep screaming for a sound I've missed..

The sound of my fists pounding on my chest, like broken bottles
I hear the crackling sound.. of crashing to the ground

picking my fragile body off the floor, tiptoeing around like I've got no-where to go.

fingers ****** and bruised from digging the hole inside my hollow frame..

I trace back the steps taken, clicking my pen nervously anxiously waiting for you; notebook to turn the page...

dim the lights, softly stroking the thought
of him and I under the sheets
entangled in one another..

sheets satin red, like blood red lips, kissing on a Sunday morning.
shades of light hit the right corners of his body, tempting me to touch.
I need; him to understand this isn't just a love affair, that's it..

it's just an affair, of the sorts. as you will know he lives deep within my weary soul.

I daydream of the times we've woken up next to each other
as I lay there pondering my next move, I'm violently awaken by screams..

it's a just Sunday morning.. nightmare..