The face of death- a blade dug too far.
But the kiss of death, only a torturing scar.
Death leaves no pain, no hurt, or sorrow.
But the kiss barely lasts, and still leaves tomorrow.
Day in, Day out- kisses come, kisses stay
because upon these arms, all the hurt fades away.
But it does not last, the feeling of relief.
Instead once again, comfort turns to grief.
Deepening scars are left, forever to remain
Looking for a better tomorrow, that hope cannot sustain.
The scarlet red lips, kiss the tender arm
The scarlet red drips, veins pouring out of desperate harm.
She closes her eyes, and breathes in deep.
Knowing the familiar pain will not keep.
Keep her world from closing in, burying her alive.
But it brings satisfaction, just enough to get by.
Death begins to creep, as blood begins to seep.
And she begins to weep, because of what lies underneath.
The monster thats inside, screaming to break free.
She refuses to confide in hope and serenity.
Instead she chooses pain, obsessed with every night.
With every crying vein, heavy burdens become light.
She stares right through the mirror, a glare with no alarm.
It couldn't be much clearer, last night... death left kisses on her arm.