Sep 2013
my bed is a crypt without you
my nights are filling with cold
these bones are nothing but hollow tubes
that hold your name
and if I broke all over again,
my body would bleed out
the letters we forgot to send, so
don’t hold me like a dead thing
you can burn your silence,
and I’ll choke on the smoke.
my nights are filling with cold
these bones are nothing but hollow tubes
that hold your name
and if I broke all over again,
my body would bleed out
the letters we forgot to send, so
don’t hold me like a dead thing
you can burn your silence,
and I’ll choke on the smoke.
