itís pronounced savour, not saviour

Sheís what Iíd look like if I was beautiful
the mirror cracked around the edges †
and I want to kiss her deep beneath the surface †
of the ocean †
so we can devour each otherís breaths as we drown †

If I sold her my soul  
I get the impression sheíd give it back to me  
unscathed and maybe in better repair than left alongside my own spirit †
but Iím not after the touch of a saving Grace †
I want blood bitten lips and bruises on my hips †
I want destruction and the ecstasy of pain †
shattered glass and whiskey bottles with all the romance †
of ripped lace curtains on a cold night in June †

But sheís not the kind of girl to fuck me up †
when the noosed rope sheís climbing out of hell with †
is the same I plan to hang myself from †
Ďcause sheís worked too hard to let love abuse her †
and I havenít worked hard enough to love myself quite right †

Never mind that I canít haul my gaze from her winter chapped lips  
that every few seconds I want to kiss †
because sheís speaking a language my demons understand †
and Iíve long succumbed to their whispers and theyíre telling me †
loveís for bitches  
and Iím an artist that needs a canvas to paint †

© Indie Adams 2013
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published | Edited 6th Jul 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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