: What Kills :
04.04.08

Well, I thought that one day long ago, when I wrote "love" next to your name, that I was lying to myself since I had nothing better to say.

Now the "you" is another man whose name I'm yet to write.
He tells me that I'm beautiful so I can sleep at night.

I take in all that I am offered and expect only what I will receive.
Your broken heart burns through my skin;
I think I'm luckier to know you now instead of then.
But I deserve only half of you Just one side of paradise.
And nights of bathing in your fire as you choke down my ice.
As we go about our fun I find I have Nowhere to run.

What kills?
Love, when You try too hard to be all he could want.
Love, when You can't let go of those faraway faces You, when You look in the mirror and think you're no good

A kiss used to mean blooming flowers.
Opening explosively in wine-red dress Now all I can think of is the curl in your eyelash, the curve of your lip And how your face feels cupped in my hand

What kills?
Love, when You don't know what you're doing, and that doesn't stop you for anything.