She is the bite marks on my skin,
melancholy songs in the dark.
We kiss and shout and fight and cry,
without her not a day goes by.
I am the violence of my past,
a beast that cowers in a cage.
It seemed I hurt her broken heart
with my destruction and my rage.
She holds a burden of lost souls,
a sorrow she can hardly hide.
We are both victims of the world,
pushed together by different tides.
She is the lyrics to a song,
unfortunately, it’s not mine.
My music echoes sadness still,
my muse one day I hope I’ll find.
Your melody is beautiful,
you sing to me of things untold.
I fold the fabric of our love,
our story will never unfold…
Sing my name,