tema

untitled

I fit my fingers through the deep cracks that lay on her soul
I can feel the dead skin from old hands, the lovers she used to hold
A heart-wrenching scent of despair follows her everywhere she goes
Like ants crawling atop her and through the holes of her tattered clothes
I sink the gaze of my eyes into the depths of her heart
I occasionally see it thawing out, along with her scars
She's lost her sense of trust, it was tossed way too far
As if it were a plaything or a bottle bound to be broken in a fight at the bar
With hands like these, I don't know if I could do her any good or make everything worse
But one thing's for sure, she'll be held in my heart, forever as we traverse
The ruins of this broken world and all beyond it
We'll build ourselves a home from love, brick by brick



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