Friday, December 9, 2011

These Tired Eyes Shoot Daggers

What you call a parting gift
I call a parting shot
say it's what I get
blame it on what you got
But still
I like where I'm living
Let's be real
All of the choices we're given
Are forks in the road
We brought ourselves to
Are lines in the sand
Between me and you
So let's dance
And call it a fight
Let's make up
And then call it a night
Wake up hungover
Just to do it again
These words are bombs
Each utterance is a sin
Those same three words
Until the bitter end
But I'll hold your hand
Like this clutching could save me
We'll cling and we'll hold
Until we figure it out
I'll wait if I must
Until there is no more doubt.

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