Sanoja: The Bled. My Cyanide Catharsis.

This scalpel makes a map across my back.
Carve a short cut to your suitcase lips.
There's no saving us tonight.
Our pulse will flutter like a dial tone.
As you touch my hand for one last time, the car engine hums us to sleep. The lies.
Your subtle teeth.

Tonight is the rest of our lives, a carbon monoxide lullaby. Evacuate. Abandon this breath.
Pull myself apart. Just to feel something real.
I close my eyes I turn my back for one last time.

I hold my breath I fall alseep inside your arms. Your eyes reflect my regrets. All the feelings you cant afford and the ones I cant control have collided. Now I'm a mess. I've tried my best to hide it. Now it's obvious. I wear it in these wounds that never heal.

There's no saving us tonight.