Twenty-seven pennies drop
One for every week we spent holding on to silent summer nights
To wishes made on cigarette ash
Your name catches in my throat
As you breathe those four words:
It all spells disaster

With your fingers embedded in my veins
**** me until I no longer hate myself
Make me *** to a revelation
Urges and surges, that pain in my chest
It offers me quick release, but I deny myself yet again
Purging my old ways
I shake, I scream
A mirror broken in child's play offers the only explanation
My head is heavy, but still I'll hold yours steady