The truth is, i still love
him.
The truth is, i cant stand the
silence that resides where our
hands used to meet. But that
doesn't mean i won't go through
the nine rings of hell just to
spite him. i'd rather spend an
eternity with the devil strapped
to my back than admit that i
still give a damn. and believe
me, i will act like a shot of
wiskey taste better than his
lips ever did. i'll create
wildfires in city streets before
i ever came knocking at his
door again. I will never admit
to him that he has a bleeding
organ in his hands.- the one
he ripped out of my chest
all those years ago; when
he asked for a dance.