She told me there are hallelujahs in my blood
She sees what I can’t know
She says she can read me like a book but there’s always more pages to read
more blood to be bleed
always more line to find in between
so tell me baby, what do you prescribe?
what other secrets does my blood hide?
does hell travel through my veins as well?
am I heaven or am I hell?
Tell me about the answers I can’t reach
because your obvious expertise
is qualification enough to sort through my organs
and ration out conclusions
Layout my truths, my lies, an obvious declaration in your eyes
I am yours to tear apart,
I am a discovery you’ll take to heart