Are we still connected or was it just a plot to get yourself off and hope that I'm not listening when it happens?
She says I can't begin to say how sorry I am.
I never meant for this to happen.
The sun goes down the knives come out.
I'm on the island you left me on, such a sickening strip of sand.
No lifeboats, no getting off.
We give up, we give in without blinking.
Jesus Christ what was I thinking?
Oh these lungs desperately filled by someone starving and sad because you know your lover won't be back.
All these words useless and absurd makes the harbor and the water sick.
Shall I stay rejected or end up drunk and soft like a bitter old man?
Sunk in his veins trying not to get caught.
He says I know you didn't miss the sound that I made.
It's simple and sad and easy to fake.
The liquids down the knives come out.
I'll be there the night you go down.
I understand the reasons for this awkward dance.
I'd leave me too if I thought I had the slightest chance.
I cry aloud to the sheets they grip back tight.
I fall asleep to the sound of my own life.
If I drink this bottle fast enough, I might get lucky and not wake up.