That streams through my veins and into my heart.
It beats for you alone and no one else.
Cut me open to let this love pour out,
And stare while I tremble on the ground.
How can I speak when I write all my words?
These derisorius words.
Complemented by my face made crimson.
Scratching your name with my nails in the ground
In an effort to claw you from my heart.
The point is moot; I never want you out.
It’s just… without you, there isn’t much else.
An inconceivable else.
Fight back with any of these written words.
They have all been made for you to find out.
Hoping that you share this thread of crimson,
And that we are linked by a string and heart.
So that we might soon stand on steady ground.
Oh, this precarious ground.
Swayed and tethered by these thoughts of who else…
Shaking by the pumps of my skipping heart.
Quaking by the weight of these two-faced words.
Fill a fountain with wishes and crimson,
So I might write until red ink runs out.
Please rip this fallacy out.
For I am delusional to your ground.
And I cannot trust my own minds crimson,
Because you are in love with someone else.
And your story carries another’s words.
So I’ll just sit here with my longing heart.
This irresponsible heart.
That hopes one day you will figure me out.
And that your next chapter might be my words.
That we might walk together on shared ground.
Belief in each other and no one else.
And bathe in oceans as deep as crimson.
But my heart is laid to ground.
I’ll not speak out if you’re with someone else.
So I’ll write these words in blood and crimson.