The Bruises On My Face
Once again
broken glass impales
my bleeding hands.
I am clutching
at the shattered remains
of this heart.
I don't want to remember
who I am,
or what I've done
so I pretend.
I pretend you're not
walking away.
As blood flows
from the back of my head,
trickles down my skin,
drips,
I think,
this is the way
it was always meant to be.
From the first kiss
to the last drop,
nothing's changed.
broken glass impales
my bleeding hands.
I am clutching
at the shattered remains
of this heart.
I don't want to remember
who I am,
or what I've done
so I pretend.
I pretend you're not
walking away.
As blood flows
from the back of my head,
trickles down my skin,
drips,
I think,
this is the way
it was always meant to be.
From the first kiss
to the last drop,
nothing's changed.