the faind passionate love
of two marks of horrible existence become one

and i forget
rather i forgot, what it was to be lost inside
of you, your mind, your love

we might've mixed our ashes together
and i might've finally been ok with it

AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

now all you are are marks on a page
you could be the single authority on analysis of this

but i still feel slaps of ink on my brain
as you drew blood from my brain

would the greeks have written such a tragedy:

where two become one by blood for blood

sharing wrists, of clenched fists clenched to fit.
we'll shift our weight to soul
our backs will fall to the wall
we hit the concrete
holding tired fists, tired of fighting
we poured our souls to death
where we could become one

you are my blood!