Text: Twelve Tribes. Faith, Hopes Dirty Knife.

I swear i never thought i'd feel this kiss awakening sickness to preying swine blessed clotting tears neglect my face left as a bitter empty self sunken to the mire below i've found no triumph in this last breath such weeping could not unmask to you my love roughly her lips they move four seasons in passion eternity has been unsung tragedy deceived in this spoiled tongue her body sips from the glass of a boy who spits the unsaid abiding thirst but well fed i could have never guessed twisted wrists lead my hands to injecting obsessions venom under her skin her seduction bleeding into a child's torn imperfection grasping for a blurred forever and this lust endured forever and forevermore feeling this kiss