We were both marching into a new war
when we knew we could end up doomed.
I once dreamt of reaching the stars
until living just felt like picking on scars,
as if opening old time wounds.

But I refuse to be bruised;
I refuse to 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 be bruised,
For I so desire to be thrown off the cliff.
I am ready to bust open my eyes and lips.
I long to have an arrow shot
to my weary heart.
I daydream of spilling blood
on your strong arms.

I refuse to be bruised;
For I am never more thrilled to perish,
Just to get a taste of your lips.
Into the lions' den
I would beg to be shoved,
Only for the glory
and name of your love.
Darling I am most ready to die,
burn and decay,
If that means I would feel your touch
across my face.