I'm having trouble breathing
It doesn't hurt
It's actually kind of nice.

This tension in my lungs
Is because of your love
And in my ribcage there are mice.

Maybe it's a little morbid
Rather than to say butterflies
But those can be freed with a sigh.

Maybe it's a little demented
But I like it that way
I wear a noose as a tie.

I guess I'm probably backwards
To say the least
I prefer blood to water.

Your love is psychotic
Like a psychedelic trip
From a blotter.

It's so nice
As wrong as asphyxiation sounds
But it's as macabre as it is pleasing.

And if you were to leave
The warmth of my body
Would undoubtedly turn to freezing.