Feb 2020
Your beauty hangs rotten like succulent petals that taunt the innocents demise
That's a lie, there ain't no innocence behind my eyes
And baby, I tried, but you got too many faces to hide in high tides
If I could love you any less don't you think I would have?
Don't you think I would've cut this beating heart from my chest and swallow my last breath with a cyanide chase?
These pills I take are laced with regrets that taste like you and leave me black and blue on the inside
All's fair in love and war so I made myself a ***** and fight battles in my core
I've been plucking 'she-loves-me-not' petals from a foxglove that's left me vomiting
I packed a box love so I can consume myself for lunch like the ouroboros eating its own hair
The fare's fair since I got dollar signs for eyes and my lack of spine nets me a discount.
I hope some day I'm credited for your self discovery, it'd be love-a-ly to be recognized as the ******* I've always been
I've slept with sin but her lipstick burns my tongue when we touch, don't even get me started on our *****.
If the world's a stage than I'm a discounted actor still waiting for his big break while tripping over his shoes
One too many tears have been shed for what might've been but we haven't done enough about what is
Can't help but wonder is his kiss tastes like blood or if that's just the poison talking
I'm a walking coffin with ether in his lungs and an ego no halo fits
Better off avoiding the saints since I'm sick of their stories and the gory details of my afterbirth existence bores them
Got two pistons pumping sludge through my brain like novocaine for the thoughts of my own self worth
If anything, I'm said one too many words a thousand times over again and I've been misheard and falsely incriminated for my bad grammar
I stutter and I stammer when I think of you, until I'm nothing more than a broken *******
Guess we're back to the ***** imagery again, not that either of us are surprised
I've always been a bit of a *****, but that was the post you'd chosen to hitch yourself to
Or at least it was once, now its just rotted wood and termites head banging to classic tunes
That's a lie, there ain't no innocence behind my eyes
And baby, I tried, but you got too many faces to hide in high tides
If I could love you any less don't you think I would have?
Don't you think I would've cut this beating heart from my chest and swallow my last breath with a cyanide chase?
These pills I take are laced with regrets that taste like you and leave me black and blue on the inside
All's fair in love and war so I made myself a ***** and fight battles in my core
I've been plucking 'she-loves-me-not' petals from a foxglove that's left me vomiting
I packed a box love so I can consume myself for lunch like the ouroboros eating its own hair
The fare's fair since I got dollar signs for eyes and my lack of spine nets me a discount.
I hope some day I'm credited for your self discovery, it'd be love-a-ly to be recognized as the ******* I've always been
I've slept with sin but her lipstick burns my tongue when we touch, don't even get me started on our *****.
If the world's a stage than I'm a discounted actor still waiting for his big break while tripping over his shoes
One too many tears have been shed for what might've been but we haven't done enough about what is
Can't help but wonder is his kiss tastes like blood or if that's just the poison talking
I'm a walking coffin with ether in his lungs and an ego no halo fits
Better off avoiding the saints since I'm sick of their stories and the gory details of my afterbirth existence bores them
Got two pistons pumping sludge through my brain like novocaine for the thoughts of my own self worth
If anything, I'm said one too many words a thousand times over again and I've been misheard and falsely incriminated for my bad grammar
I stutter and I stammer when I think of you, until I'm nothing more than a broken *******
Guess we're back to the ***** imagery again, not that either of us are surprised
I've always been a bit of a *****, but that was the post you'd chosen to hitch yourself to
Or at least it was once, now its just rotted wood and termites head banging to classic tunes
