intertwined thoughts with yours

stitched up wounds are open once again

appreciation of my silence

will be held no more

so close to your desires

but I will not encourage my blood

to be spilled for indignity

and I would cry but it would kill all that I know

still utter deceit enters my flesh

and I contemplate the end as I grasp for breath

bearing bloody memories while kneeling

down letting my insides pour out

and my enraged memories won't let me open

these wounds anymore