Each hand is a book with a story to tell
each line expresses its time through hell.
connecting these lines i see your name
its connected by dry blood reaching my vein.
I cracked and bruised myself for you
only these hands can say the truth.
I open this book for another quick glance
then i shatter my heart morning a chance.
i soak this book with the sorrow i know
hoping each page will fade and slowly go.
but everytime i close that chapter
you come around just right after.
I let you write another line
with a smile saying that it is fine.
putting these pages back in the fire
to have you for a day, that sweet desire.
But as you leave and i fall asleep
i re-write this book only in my dreams.
