A Fine Line

Well I love how the pavement looks, just after it has rained,

And I love the sight of ink, smudgy and tearstained.

I love the smell of a fresh new book, when you open the very first page;

I love the words you don't write back, and this hopeless, heartsick rage.


I love the sound of wind in the trees as leaves fall to the ground;

I love the way your voice speaks in my dreams, when you're nowhere to be found.

I love the feel of clean sheets, against my tired skin,

And I love waiting for you to call, knowing my luck is fading and thin.


I love the taste of mint and wine, that carries on your breath,

And I love how you live your life – the way you aren't afraid of death.

I love the way you swagger when you walk, and that confident, charming smile,

And I love my raging tears, and the taste of bitter, love churned bile.


I love the blood that runs in your veins, and I hate my weary bones;

I love the words that fall from your lips, but I hate these lovesick moans.

I hate the tears that burn tracks on my face, and I love your beautiful eyes;

I hate the beats that my wretched heart skips, but I love your beautiful lies.


I sink and surrender

You fight fire with fire

I said you were perfect

I called you a liar


I never knew what that word meant

But you threw away all the letters I sent

I said that I loved you, you didn't say a word

I convinced myself that you never heard


I love you, you don't love me.

I don't hate you, you hate me.

I love your heart, your skin and your bones;

How similar the sound of death is to these heartsick groans.

Reviews, as always, are very welcome. :D Thanks for reading.

X =D