I’ve been counting the minutes since you murdered me, just waiting to finally die.
I have a scar for every letter and take a drink for every lie.
I wish that I could kiss you without needing to be wasted,
But sadly when I’m sober I taste every mouth you’ve ever tasted.
Nothing rhymes in real life, there’s no sentence structure to help me heal.
I just sit in bed and reread your words: Im just saying that i still have feelings for you, its not a big deal