Little Miss Giving

Death is not an option like it was when I was young, But that old familiar noose still ties a knot around my tongue. Strangling the letters to all the words I wish to speak, So I’ll hide these seeds of reason within a kiss upon your cheek. In hopes that it will bloom into the dream we had before, You said you were crazy then, but sweetheart, that's what love is for. I’m tied by a billion vines in your mind to the edge of this beautiful wreck, As your pendulum of indifference settles just before my neck. Paranoia coats my search for truth and the demons in your head, Oh how I wish you would kill them all and just come back to bed.