I could live in your veins and still find a way to miss you.

You could push me into the water,
Holding my head under- and I'd still swim back to you.

Sometimes I write in my own blood,
Some would say it's painful.

But my blood,
Is your blood.
It's us.

Your voice makes me smile,
My blood pumps.

You keep me alive,
Even when you are killing me.

Blood is red.
It's our passion.
Our war.
Our hate.
Our love.

You make me exist even when I feel like I am dying.