I am no different than that boy who claims to love you
Hand in hand we spill our hearts in slurred proclamations
Dressed in black we are mirrored shadows, hollow lovers, the singers of night songs
Choking on ink and blood, we scrawl a final plea for peace
Or at least the pieces to put ourselves back together
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 12:59 PM UTC
I am no different than that boy who claims to love you
Hand in hand we spill our hearts in slurred proclamations
Dressed in black we are mirrored shadows, hollow lovers, the singers of night songs
Choking on ink and blood, we scrawl a final plea for peace
Or at least the pieces to put ourselves back together
