Shaking my head,
this just has to die
this has to suffocate,
this has to fall apart,
and let another lie on top...
Seeing her face fill with sorrow
As your presence enters her sunshine
Like blood and tears on her brand new-ness...
I glare with new-born hatred, feeling you blackness
Just as they've always stained her hands like murder
Knowing she just might die if you drag her down
Hoping she'll wisely look away and cling to hope
I turn my gaze to her for comfort and a place of warmth.
I may never know what went on,
Or all you did to her,
But I know enough to know she was hurt
Enough to fear a past she tried to escape.
So this has got to die. Or I'll kill you myself.
You can't keep staring her way, every time her name
Floats softly into your awareness, like a devil to its sin.
You may draw your pain away, but you can't paint
Her sorrow quite as good as she...
And she may cry like a child at times
And she may always regret these dark crimes
But never will she be left alone in your death-stare.
So she will be my pillow and I will be her pillow case
Because you will never again touch her, and leave disgrace.
So I threaten it, beyond you cleverness and stealth
This demon has got to die, or I will kill it myself.
