Asylum in D Major.

I take no pleasure in broken bones,
But she'll always stick around to cheer on a cracking smile.
I enjoy the taste of saltwater wounds and immorality.
Lately, that's all they seem to have on the screens of my eyes.
Her fingers grace the sky like lace, and she crochets her anger into my wordless hopes.
I have fear in the broken home I live for.
My watery skin enjoys the taste of her needles.
There's a hope my limbs will split and tear from the inner conflicts;
The turmoil could consume me and I'd set the butane to the match.
I have fallen in love with the shelter that bleeds me.
For the only thing left is romanticizing pain;
And my disdain lies in the hands of all our false teeth.