And it imprinted in your skin,
the facts that ceased to be.
Across the bed, it went wild-
a balloon with one too many pins.
It crawled through our clothes,
quite bitter was this snake,
you called this thing love,
but we knew it was fake.
Another bite, another tug
a shout and a moan,
screaming air into your lungs;
It was all over, no more...
but remember this, and I will too
the moments may fade,
and your name grow dim,
but our debts aren't forgiven
and I still live in sin.
I hope this is enough.
