as i crawl through the dark,
call to me through the wicked silence of my conscience,
reminiscing a little faster now.
you are stomping on the doorstep
of the heart you once possessed.
and the guilt piles on me
like layers of dust on the ceiling fan blades
and i hate you for loving me...
hate you for loving me...
i push aside the image of your face
that forms clear as day in the depths of mind
cold and white, with golden eyes staring
blankly into nowhere,
the eyes i wanted to drown in.
and i hate me for loving you...
hate me for loving you...
and guit piles on me
like layers of dust on the ceiling fan blades
as i stare into those blank, golden eyes,
the eyes i wanted to drown in.
our breaths mingle one last time,
and sitting in the dark,
the ceiling fan turns on,
and the dust of guilt flys away
as i drown in those blank, golden eyes at last.
