there's blood on my hands
but blood on yours too
I wonder what would have happened if I never left
I wonder what would have happened we finished those riffs
those bolts of love like musical notes
bursting into flames right after they're wrote
passion only gets you so far
it doesn't always coexist with love
passion for lust
you were someone I thought I could trust
I have to move on, or combust
what choice do I have here anymore?
no passion left to settle the scores
the notes faded the minute we made the music
I just want someone to call me baby all the time
I'm relieved I'm not yours, while being sad you're not mine
that's gotta be some sort of sign of my state of mind
what reality do I exist in?
I just call it mine...
if I could
I would crush up nostalgia and snort a line
******* wired into me like muscle memory
like when my fingers touch piano keys
I remember the music
I remember your hands
I remember your apathy
I remember our plans
I remember the golden morning light
I remember the texture of your couch
I remember the smell of the air
I remember the taste of your mouth
I want to move on
I want to let go
I want to remember the potential of my glow
this is music only I'm writing now
and I'm the star of the ******* show