(no subject)
You would think after all this time
Your taste would have lifted from my lips
And I would forget your eyes were out for gold and all the rest.
And I won't forgive -
because I can't forget the weight I carry in my chest.
I'm far too far from giving up - I swear.
I swear.
My wishes remain the same: for steady hands to be held.
Hands to hold, and to be held.
But what's left to heal?
What's left of me?
You'll get what you deserve - and when the time is right,
you'll see it's funny how little it takes for you
to become everything you say you hate.
But don't worry.
It suits you just fine.