I want to wrap you up in a blanket like quicksand and tell you a secret
One that's been whispered onto the lips of cursed sailors
I want to tell you
How much I love the way you lie
At night I lay awake and map out your face with the shadows on my ceiling
You might think I'm desperate
But that's only if
You believe desperation
Is eating away at your soul
Like a moth to a flame
And weak old cheese
But I love you
Like I love everything else
Like the feeling of glass in a fresh wound