I am killing time,
on the waiting line.
I sit with nothing but,
the fire
is still burning.
I remember the ways you forgot
to be skinned alive
by lust, the hunger of
'why shouldn't I', and
why should I stay here?
When you feel differently,
need to be convinced.
When I am not enough.
Like, hardly anyone at all.

Who you are, who you've been
I caught a glimpse,
one gloomy night,
as we dragged our souls into the dark.
Just as you fell asleep.
Just as I turned you off.
I held on tightly to your heart
and beyond and above.
I placed myself under your skin,
so your fears would not, drag you away from me.
Cut you up entirely,
but I was.
I am full of holes.
Genuinely, you escaped right through me
and with the flaws,
pierced to the scenery,
I end up discovering
new empty spaces.
What might have been lost,
a heart or more.
I caught a glimpse of,
what now is to ignore,
a heart or more.

So I am killing time,
as you run away.
I've been told to wait silently.
You haven't got very far yet, so
I moved in and got close.
'Ain't got no time for shivers', you urged.
Wait silently,
'cause
as far as endings go
dearest,
the fire
is still burning.
As I unravel,
as I increase my torture,
I am not bothered.
As I hit the bottom,
as I play with dolls and corpses,
as the lips are upon the smile of another.
As I search through the ashes of our fire,
as I end up where I started.
'Cause I know who you are
and nothing is as good as you
are;
love.
11