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Lying through her lips soaked in rum
Lying entangled on wooden floors, a silent mess to come.
Staying close to venture away from demons lurking in the corners
Of their connected minds filled with space and noise, corroded with ash and mourners.
Silence like an empty wood growing inside of them creating a stem
One sip closer to sanity and lust that has become the center of them.
A devilish child in the form of a smile creeps upon his face
Wishing she remembered how to be a child and not trapped in his darkest place.
A rag doll immersed in dying airs suffocated with blame
Doused in thoughts and blackened by his flame.
Lying that she cares he is a mess, she wishes he was her only sin
Lying close pretending he’s still real besides the girl with pale porcelain skin.