Nov 2017
Its been a while, since I french kissed the sun.
Let my tongue be the trigger, and your warmth be the gun.
Melt me down to the bone, praise my deepest scars.
Save each strange emotion, in my many shaded jars.
Paint my softened skin, and I'll paint yours too.
And I'll whisper outloud,
that
I've always loved you.
Let my tongue be the trigger, and your warmth be the gun.
Melt me down to the bone, praise my deepest scars.
Save each strange emotion, in my many shaded jars.
Paint my softened skin, and I'll paint yours too.
And I'll whisper outloud,
that
I've always loved you.
I may never say-but in the back of my mind, I have always wanted to.
