what love may give
love shall take all the same,
the joy it brings is fleeting and uncertain.
a stolen kiss behind the heavy curtain
and every breath is on the precipice.
the one who yearns must yearn forever more,
the one who dares must learn to throw the game.
when bodies touch it's there to keep the score;
what love may give
love shall take all the same.

i see blood,
i see it everywhere now:
falling from the sky,
splattered on the ground.
i see blood of those
who don't have a home,
not because it's lost,
but because it's torn.
i see crimson tears,
i see scarlet streets.
they might sympathise,
they might speak of peace,
but if there's no justice,
then there is no god.
when i close my eyes
all i see is blood.

she said it's magic that we even met
in this day and age;
out of sight, out of mind.
and she pulled me apart, thread by thread,
and made something new,
something she could've liked
if it wasn't so easy to have me.
she craves excitement,
she'd rather be kept on her toes.
guess i made myself too available;
joke's on me - i though that's how love works.
she said it's magic that we ever crossed paths
in this great big world
where everyone's lost.
and she smiled so sweetly as she pulled me apart,
thread by thread,
every bit of my flesh and bones.
but it was just too easy to have me,
she'd rather get her poison
straight from the source.
guess i made myself too available;
joke's on me - i thought that's how love works.

there's a sea
on the other side of this dream,
you will meet yourself
there, on the shore.
she might say
"you're so much braver than me,
'cause, you see,
you've made it here on your own."
she could hold your hand
or hold back a laugh
when the waves catch you off guard
as they break.
there's a life
on the other side of this dream
to welcome you back
once you're awake.

always happy, always in bloom,
always one step away from becoming
just a collection of parts;
her head still smiling and pretty
rolling across the floor.
sorry, did i break the illusion too soon?
not so beautiful now that you know
what it feels like to be her.
makes you wish the flashes would stop,
makes you want to scream
"can't you see she's already done enough?"
why can't they set her free?
but alas,
she must always be happy,
always in bloom,
always one breath away from becoming
just a collection of parts.

you say it's just who you are
and if i love you so,
i should be able to accept it,
i should be able to dissect
my own feelings,
pour some acid
and watch them dissolve.
but you see, love,
it's not true though,
and every little sacrifice
makes me diminish in your eyes,
as if it ever was a valid
reference point.
i refuse to be appraised,
i don't accept being sold.
let go of my hand.
guess what? life ain't fair.
so take your overpriced baggage,
all your emotional damage,
and **** it up.
it might sound cruel,
but if you want to be a grown-up
you should stop playing the fool.
no kiss goodbye,
no sweet farewell,
i guess you'll never get to learn
that this is who i really am.

it's always something, isn't it?
something that was once yours,
something that they took
and then convinced you
that it never really existed.
it was something important, you think.
something that you gave up,
something that wasn't even worth keeping;
anyway, that's what they told you.
"surely, you will be better without it, sweetie."
now that you forgot your own shape
wherever you look - it's all the same,
a convenient fixture to cover a lie.
but does that brief ache every time you smile
ever make you wonder
what that something was?
something that once
used to be yours.