Shameless Soul
Is it me,
or is it the glass I'm made of ?
Did you mean what you said ?
Was it sincere ?
All the questions I ask myself,
after a conversation with you
I've heard these words before,
almost like déjà vu,
like water in my hands
You see the scares,
see the blood,
pouring down my arms and hands
You cut me deep
The sting and irritation,
what I feel,
as I watch my skin turn red from the alcohol as it burns my insides out
You killed me with your love and loved me with your hands
The same hands that you cross your heart with, while, swearing you would never hurt a soul
The same heart that you "tried" to love that broke me
But sooner or later, the pain will subside
As for right now
All I have left is a crapy piece of pride
