Mouth to plum, bruised blue and black
it's always guilt, the wild eyes lack.
It's always pansies, blooming down my back
If you could ever think to love me - attack.
Feel my fingers, feel my nerves
boy,
relish my blindness, dampen my words.
Eat me alive,
I've forgotten what it is to die.
Forgotten how to bring my ****** lips to wine
and let you shove away the tears - I'm dry.
The beauty of petals, what do they serve,
to only dry and fall dead from a flower,
when the sun is not hers?