You cut me so deeply,
And then spat on my wounds.
And yet, when you scrape your knee,
I have to fight the urge to come running.
I still want you to be okay.
Seems like I'm dying either way.

"What colour is my heart?" she sings,
And as her voice soaks into me,
I feel you slink and coil yourself around my heart.
At first it felt like you were meant to be there,
But the longer her set goes on
The harder you squeeze.
"What colour is my heart?" she sings.
I know the answer.
My heart is black and blue,
Thanks to you.

I don't know whether
I am attracted to clowns,
Or whether I myself am the clown.
Either way,
Clearly I am a joke.
And I hope breaking me
Was as enjoyable as you hoped.

You stabbed me repeatedly,
But when I finally walked away,
You were the one to cry betrayal.

And each promise you made to me
Was a paper flower,
Floating down the stream
That flowed from your mouth,
Disintegrating before it got to your hands
Never to reach me.

Your ghost is right behind me,
Traipsing just close enough that
If I trip you will be upon me.
Suffocating me once again.

I have to keep moving.
Because I can feel you behind me,
And if I stop, you'll catch me.
And that would destroy us both.