Tourniquet

Waiting on a heartache, constrict me please

Make it all feel so slow like a church organ haunting pulse

Waiting on a dead poem, words etched in my skin before I leave

Moving back in forth in the movements of my mind

My only sick repulse you won't welcome what you find

Welcome me to this world, a torn blanket sown anew

If the quilt bared our love, should it be sown before we're through

How can I find you when you never wanted to let me know

How much you loved the spotlight, and hated every single show

I inhale on asphyxiation your essence like cyanide

Quickest way to an epitaph when I know I've died

I can't say goodbye to you, just to say so long

No need to shout after me, just a whisper I'll be gone





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