The tide is always crashing, and things are never the
same underneath. only the waves stay consistent.
so lets put this behind us.
we know things aren't the same. hope plays a
deceitful role in this charade we call love.
did i win. does anyone win? my lips longing for
your touch. like a desert in summer. dry and
desolate. another lost soul barried beneath this
mound of regret. how can i take this back. if i
did would you take me back. the moonlight reflects
the image of a dream that is long over. revive me,
this cold is taking over. hope plays a deceitful
role in this charade we call love. did i win. does
anyone win? my lips longing for touch, longing
for your touch. fuck you. who said this is a game?
my lips longing for your touch.like a desert in summer.
dry and desolate. another lost soul barried beneath
this mound of regret.