intertwined thoughts with yours 
stitched up wounds are open once again 
appreciation of my silence 
will be held no more 
so close to your desires 
but I will not encourage my blood 
to be spilled for indignity 
and I would cry but it would kill all that I know 
still utter deceit enters my flesh 
and I contemplate the end as I grasp for breath 
bearing bloody memories while kneeling 
down letting my insides pour out 
and my enraged memories won't let me open 
these wounds anymore