murder charges


                                         blood on my hands

(does love still stand in the broken trees' promises?)


                                         bloody heart on my conscience.

                       


                                                                                              stains


left from people

(unforgiving)


                             left from people
                 
                                 (unwilling)

((Did love kill her?))




i drool in need
(to drink her soul)

to tear it apart
[but never let go]

to use her up
(to eat away the pain)

to become so magical
[that she'll love me again]


blood on my hands
mix with the tears
murder charges
i'll face up to no years







love her by sun
hate her by night



                                              [but they assure me i'll be all right]



i want to use her up
but keep her for more

i want to hurt her
because i should have before

(but never would, eh?)

i would never have harmed a hair on her body
stepping on eggshells as it were
i wanted to be with her forever


(but i should have hit her)



I should have slammed her face into the ground.
I should have murdered her heart; shown her the blood on my hands, too.
I should have torn her slowly,
piece by piece,
and shown her what it was like.


                                               to love her.





murder charges


                                         blood on my hands

(does love still stand in the broken trees' promises?)


                                         bloody heart on my conscience.


Blood dripping off,
knees feeling weak,
but a smile rips through my cheeks.

She has finally gotten what she deserves,
she has finally read from the book she wrote,
she has finally been burned in her own fire.




                                            AND THIS IS MY SECRET DESIRE.





signed,

your lover.