This is what I always say,
how annoying it is, my skin is like clay.
Remember when we went to that thing?
When holiday sparks made our hearts ring.
We danced under the petals,
And heard the lullabies of the high falsettos.
Then you asked “Where do we go?”
I smirked and spoke “Where love flows.”
As we departed, I wonder to myself.
Was this the unknown,
Knowing where hidden leaves grown.
Or was this the end,
Stabbing these feeling where do I tend?
Day do day, my neck to a knife,
Smelling this aroma in a new kind of light.
Grief is to much misery,
So end it with a killing,
Is this our annual thrilling?
Now that I understand,
I listen to commands,
But sometimes demand.
Knowing wrongs and rights,
And true feelings up to every midnight.
I can say to your face,
“I miss you, I care…I love you.”