The mistakes I've made
become the ammunition you stockpile in this emotional arm's race
promises we break
dig at my heart's cave
that I hide in throughout our love's cold war
but it's ventricles
become tentacles
begging that I don't hand it over
grasping at my rib cage
pleading to stay
ripping my chest, waiting on a truce
an armistice in the separation of you...
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
The mistakes I've made
become the ammunition you stockpile in this emotional arm's race
promises we break
dig at my heart's cave
that I hide in throughout our love's cold war
but it's ventricles
become tentacles
begging that I don't hand it over
grasping at my rib cage
pleading to stay
ripping my chest, waiting on a truce
an armistice in the separation of you...
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