Here it comes
the words
you want to say
but never do.
You hold them up
in your mouth.
That tongue's so red
of yours
Aren't you tired of
biting down.
So hard
on the harsh truth
You lose
like a poet
the right words
to choose
when you're rectifying
all the lying
but it's pretty when
You call me honey
And say, "it's nothing personal"
but I care for you
and I think about your face
when you say,
'Everything is fine,'
When nothing's going right.
Aren't you tired
of the blood
spat back in the sink?
How you think you're
On the brink
of discovering my secrets.
Just kiss me on the cheek
and whisper something sweet
in my ear
before saying things
I don't want to hear
I'll still listen
as long as the words
don't stop.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
Here it comes
the words
you want to say
but never do.
You hold them up
in your mouth.
That tongue's so red
of yours
Aren't you tired of
biting down.
So hard
on the harsh truth
You lose
like a poet
the right words
to choose
when you're rectifying
all the lying
but it's pretty when
You call me honey
And say, "it's nothing personal"
but I care for you
and I think about your face
when you say,
'Everything is fine,'
When nothing's going right.
Aren't you tired
of the blood
spat back in the sink?
How you think you're
On the brink
of discovering my secrets.
Just kiss me on the cheek
and whisper something sweet
in my ear
before saying things
I don't want to hear
I'll still listen
as long as the words
don't stop.
