Played house, in the ruins of lust,
The words I can never fake, always find a way to come out.
Fully aware that the love you gave me, were just specs of dust.
I watch them fall sweetly from your lips!
And watch how your hands unashamedly caress my hips.
Oh how I love the bittersweet taste.
As I see how we’re both hanging on by a piece of thread.
A thread of our own sanity..
Mine from loneliness,
Yours from promiscuity.
Words spoken, just tokens of profanity.
Our loneliness unable to keep it’s hands to itself.
Suffering together, because shared heartbreak weakens itself.
But why pretend to trust in me?
Why show me, a supposed stranger, the inside of you arms?
Why show me the pain caused by the ones you once loved and the scars left above your plams?
Hell is being in your arms in my dreams, and waking up alone.
Because there is nothing more deadly than being with some, but at the same time, being alone.