D I V I N I T Y

We're all craving something

We all are far to
fond
of falling into arms
that never intend to
do more then hold us

Maybe we find cruel solace in
The fact that any moment
Arms can turn to ropes
And
Hands into nooses

Maybe it's the bitter yearning
The want to hurt
The thrill of a broken heart

Maybe it's the hope that
this one will be the one that
kills us

Maybe