Every cut on my paper heart
bled crimson love for the boy
with scissor hands.

Take me where words can't,
Meet me there with your hand held out,
You should know,
When I take it,
I'll never let go,
I'm not who came before,
I won't wear a mask,
I'll show you everything that dwells inside my soul,
And I ache to read the pages of yours,
Take me there, where words can't,
Let's turn these lines into reality.

My heart of sleeplessness
awakens me foolish
moonless from my rest
ache of cells and blood
a torrent, a flood
a rushing river
reaching for your hand
your reddened lips
soft a place to land