.

.

.

Silver bullets
and blistered
anarchy signs
paint the floor

.

.

.

He stole my wretched heart
by shooting it's warm
center

.

.

.

It is kept inside the box
along with butterflies
that lived in blenders

.

.

.

Tame this fever!
my body is shaking
all for the sake
of him

.

.

.

The grandest
of all lovers,
his heart lays
close to mine

.

.

.

Inside the box
[a bloodstained box]
our hearts sleep
and forget to beat

.

.

.

For just knowing
that they are close together
is enough to keep
them alive

.

.

.

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others