Attached to a heart with no pulse.
Wrapped around the finger but my attention was paid through impulse.
Picked me up to my knees had me pleading.
Depression had me bleeding.
I'm no longer hardly speaking.
Only voice anyone's heard was a non sober one.
I guess that's why I shouldn't be allowed to love.
But why am I writing love notes to agony?
Is this the only hope I've got left in me?
Can you imagine caring for someone so much?
But my sincerity goes further away from their direction.
Either I am meant to be a toy and rolled up & down wrapped around their fingers....
Or I'm meant to lose my pulse knowing I took my anxiety attacks too far.