Soft suppression of forbodding, of knowing what I don't want to know. But it slithers in between deterents. Another rendition of self defeat. I have seen this show before. Towering balconies showering rejection, a young prince looking the other way as I pass, so many cinders and my broom is worn. Rain some more, pour on me so I know this is real. Keep the sacchrine memories of when things were good. I prefer the bite of breaking. Watch the blood escape in a mad rush toward extinction, watch the girl gather it back up and display what used to be in a fantastic charade, doting on illusion.
Tug me away from that dark past that searchs my pockets for guilt.
Sink me into an intoxicated romance.
Blind me to open my eyes to what there really is here.
I will follow you there, no questions.