A bartop divided with a stare at long eyes to hear ears. Hung on a question that it might not work, last call somewhere. Should I go home or stay here? Hold me up dear.
A toast to the one who poured out my regrets. A call to air ill intake one last...ill follow you home.

Dont hold me up, if your arms are breaking I cant tell you enough. Its discouraging when you say please hear me out with a curse to accent the sentances you make, the sentances that make me ask...

A silence recited as my voice just distorts in her ears. Rung out, obsessive that she might solve all her problems, should I hold onto my fears?

Everything you ever wanted died in the bottom of a bottle. You will never stomach but you will never throw it up. A version of a virgin purified by a bleeding heart you ruined my life and it's neverending. This air spoiled by the times when you were here and I feel like trying a new design where your heart is put in a case and I find that the beating just breaks down the walls