Chapped lips split open
under a lover’s soft touch
and now we’ll go to bed alone
because we both fear poisoned blood.
And fingers shake to feel my bones
that stab when we try to lie together.
It hurts you I know it hurts you
and I’m sorry that I stopped caring.
You’re made of glass, I’m made of stone
so it’s only logical for me to break you.
But maybe if you beg me to,
I’ll pick up your pieces.
Skin splits open under a lover’s touch
and bruises form beneath his eyes.
I’ll go to bed alone
if it means I’ll save you.

AN: Yeah, rambling. Before you ask: Eric and I are fine.