Singsong

I feel comforted by the throbbing in my hand, The way reality slips from my grasp, Blood dripping to my finger tips, A moment content in pure bliss, I may not exsist to you, But baby those memories show through, The pain brings me screaming back, Cold reality with one true fact, The first is always deepest, But with each life worsins, Because i chose to trust in you, The ammount of cuts grew and grew, Just because we smile and wave, Doesnt mean are feelings arent grave.