The sticky sweet essence of her life, dripping from my fingers.
I guess it's as the poets say, love is lost, and so it lingers.

The more you hold on, the more I let go.
Our best words spoken, our bodies broken, with nothing left to know.

The tangled up ****** sheets, wrapped in such I delicate mass.
Heaven is awkward and hell is gone, they all said it wouldn't last.

If you plant a **** in a garden, of course it takes root and grows.
Just like cutting the face, only to spite the nose.

I cut off all my fingers, and bartered them for time.
Sardonic masochism is all I claim as mine.

The copperish taste of blood on my lips, somehow reminds me of you.
And the broken body you left behind, is something I can't see through.

There's only a razors thickness between love and hate, I was trying to remove the malice.
Did you enjoy your trip down the rabbit hole, the mad hatter inquired of Alice.