Your kisses used to taste like love,
But now kisses taste a lot like leaving.
When the past calls,
I will not answer.
I cannot let myself be toiled with delusions of grandeur,
Sighing at a wilted garden once called Eden.
This garden, being the same one we built together,
Belonging to us both,
Has long been abandoned.
I will let the wilting red roses die,
Just like the memory of the way your kisses taste,
Just like the way you let our love die.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
Your kisses used to taste like love,
But now kisses taste a lot like leaving.
When the past calls,
I will not answer.
I cannot let myself be toiled with delusions of grandeur,
Sighing at a wilted garden once called Eden.
This garden, being the same one we built together,
Belonging to us both,
Has long been abandoned.
I will let the wilting red roses die,
Just like the memory of the way your kisses taste,
Just like the way you let our love die.
