Love is a backwards russian roulette.
You place the bullets, I place the bet.
I hand you the gun, your finger to the trigger
Aimed to my chest, a smoking bullet lingers.
No words spoken, I trust you this much.
I trust that my heart and a bullet won't touch.
Inside your hands my fate lies.
I see my destiny behind your eyes.
Your hand is trembeling, it's clear as day.
I feel the pulse when you wipe my tears away.
Everything that's going through my mind
Is everything I try to hide.
The fear, the worry, my emotions a mess.
Wondering if a bullet is aimed to to my chest.
Copyright © Skylar Rae Montgomery