My heart strains for the red
of your body, not mine
just an ounce more to keep it pumping
just enough to keep us alive... one more time
But the clock ticks, and the blood drips
of my body, not his
it's a mascaraed, a fiasco
and the death of what is
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
My heart strains for the red
of your body, not mine
just an ounce more to keep it pumping
just enough to keep us alive... one more time
But the clock ticks, and the blood drips
of my body, not his
it's a mascaraed, a fiasco
and the death of what is
