Those words
Are the only ones I have left to speak,
And I’m realising now that all they are, is lies.
Those arms were never wrapped around my waist,
Only my throat, my heart,
And I never thought I would like the flavour of dying,
But I guess everything tastes good
When all you’ve ever held in your mouth was smoke.
All I have left anymore is the pain of your thorns in my side,
And the whites of those eyes, staring at me in the dark,
But you and I were never friends anyway.
We never even spoke anyway.
I didn’t even know you anyway.
You drove that stake in my chest anyway.