There's a filth in my veins
Mire from the blots of ink
Ink from the forgotten letters
I've written for you
I've grown too much out of my reserve
The filth was ambitious, taking my heart and lungs
It's taken root in my fundus, now its so hard to breath
Believe me when I can't help it when I slip and tell you how I feel.
I miss you the way the moon loves the sun.
The feeling picks at the walls of my stomach,
Eager to claw its way up to my cardia
I only have your dawns and dusks.
I feel like a wilting flower left in your room.
You'll talk to me only when you have something to say.
What happened to us? Who spoke about everything stupid
Now I feel awkward with you, like I'm not your girl anymore.
It keeps scratching like an unbearable ache of grief.
But what is there to grieve when nothing has truly ended?
Tell me it hasn't ended yet,
Then I'll believe you when you say it'll be hard for you too.
"Talk to me when you can."
Oh, it's bursting through my esophagus
Its a stem adorned with thorns to tear at my organs
"I miss you."
And it has no mercy on us.
"I think I'm mad at you."
It's getting hard to breath...
"Do you still feel the same?"
I can feel the rot ache with my teeth
The petals rose with the bile to my pharynx
Change was never a gentle motion
Maybe I took your devotion for granted,
And maybe you've already given up on us.
If you don't say a thing...
