Memories burn my lips to ash, forcing their way down my throat.
Red rain falls from the clouds above my heart, tainting the pictures sepia.
I am choking on your love but it tastes like the hot, silver metal of rage.
Shards of my heart have found a way into my lungs.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
Memories burn my lips to ash, forcing their way down my throat.
Red rain falls from the clouds above my heart, tainting the pictures sepia.
I am choking on your love but it tastes like the hot, silver metal of rage.
Shards of my heart have found a way into my lungs.
