Broken

Breathe me in like air, innocent. My fingers bleed. I've been writing too much. Preventing these words from searing my battered throat. And I can't even scream so I sketch your face. Each line was a cry. Each curve bore blindness. Prevent my arms from failing. Limitless expressions to your face I can't conform. But give hands the chance voice wouldn't have. It was the first time that our words kissed, but our lips, they didn't even touch. No skin on skin. The first time in my life that I existed. And each time that we breathed, we were reborn. We're reborn each time we breathe. These nights were gaining strength yet losing ground. A shortlived grace. Your tongue! I tase your ways with a pen in my hand, in my hand, in my hand! I tase your ways. Well, in a matter of time my life went from day to night, in criminating textures. Where on earth did you go? What happened to us? With the retouching Paint, I will us a brush, apply it to your canvas. This was once a beautiful painting. Each lasting memory will control each word that I write and I used to think that my hands could dance. I only needed to hold myself up you were never a crutch... But now I see my hand's been broken for quite sometime. These memories impale the sense to this day. I'm broken.