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There are moths in my heart, With wings made of smoke, mirrors, and broken parts. Beating against my bones, And tearing up my soul.
There are thorns embracing me in my sleep, They tighten every time you touch my skin, And my body bleeds with the words you say at night, Even as I respond every time with a beautiful lie.
There are moths in my head, Clouding my vision, thoughts, and words I never said. Dulling every light of love in my heart, And leaving me alone in the dark.
There are broken glass on my tongue, And I'm careful that I won't hurt you with my words, Because truth hurts and you will bleed. What then are beautiful lies if they hurt only me?
There are moths all around me, Crawling all over my skin, And the only thing that'll make them go, Is the truth, "Do I love you? No."
