Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Bite.

Anytime you decide I don't need to hold on so tight,
just let me know,
like a wooden floor, I believe in you.
Lets put our hearts up for sale, scream our lungs out in the desert,
turn these minds into landfill.
While we are still young with fresh blood pulsing through us,
meet me.
I'll run to see you at the fork in the road,
I'll scramble to all of our unspoken truths
to have one more moment,
keep you a little longer,
and feed you a bite of my heart.

No comments:

Post a Comment