My fingers wrapped around her thorns, I bleed, but she is dying in my grasp.
Have you ever been into a new relationship but haven't moved on with the previous one?
Bereaving of the death of love, embraced by the cold winters of the absence, to beg and to have failed.
I count the lines on your palm, and I found nothing but me holding you.
He'll fill the void in your heart or the emptiness I gave, and he will be the hands you'll hold when you're away.
Love will not be forced for it overflows, and you will bathe him in your kisses for each beat of your heart.
Drown me at nighttime, for I am yearning to have your face be seen before I let myself die.