A knife to the heart,
a gun against my head,
your love has me,
better off dead.

Torn out of love,
thrown to the ground,
told to plea and beg,
while you tossed my heart around.

I question your love,
I question your faith,
as you consume my heart whole,
how does it taste?

You can throw me down,
you can tear me apart,
but that heart will keep beating,
that heart will not stop.