Your Touch Versus Death

eyes of celibates burning images worn down rotted lies lips dried peeling

eyes separate our lives dead underneath your skin this blood's not mine you

fucking whore you don't deserve my Gods you're a deified angel you leave me

sickened in prayer it's the residing disease in me that sheds it's halos for

whores it leaves my wrists cut with jaded tongues your eyes freeze my fire

of innocence whores addictions souls salvation I said it I'm so tired so

saddened I'm no coward please bury me they broke my wings in an attempt to

divide a sickness from comfort of open wounds wide eyed I died