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.