Youíre the tightest solution,
The incineration shaking from my match,
Itís not an act of hatred,
But the slightest ache that runs down the small of my back.
I canít walk, canít sleep,
Iím being overtaken by the thought of your voice,
Yelling the words you canít keep inside,
The bruises on my feet leave me walking with no choice.
Iím broken between your silences,
That ugly tattoo running down your arm,
Dragons telling me to leave, cause you bring fire,
And the ability to cause me harm.
Stop shrinking my thoughts into a bottle,
Suffocating inside small spaces,
My tears canít even be removed,
And my blood leaves you no more traces.
The aching still runs down my cheek,
My eyes are bruised shut,
I have attempted to open them one last time,
But to me, thereís no point,