A spoken word piece |
I feel like a shell shocked soldier Every time I talk to you it’s like reliving the heart of the battle Though it ended years ago And I still feel like our souls are locked together And although we are miles apart we’re only seconds away from making love or making war ‘Cause when our voices intertwine through satellite It generates a passion that has to sit on a certain side of the spectrum So we either take our clothes off or take our guns up Either way I’ll be left wounded This heart breaks sooner than my pride, but both are too fragile to gamble All’s fair in war, but nothings fair in love When you’re taken from the defensive to the most innocent of states with a simple kiss This kiss tore down the walls I’d built for people like you And this pen wasn’t prepared for the damage you’d do To my walls when they were crumbling I figured your kiss would teach me a new way to breathe But I couldn’t taste the blood on your lips and the lies in your teeth Now I’m left with battle scars like novels that I don’t want to explain And memories like ghost that haunt all my dreams Keeping me awake at night And I pray that God will reinvent me into a man that’s forgotten the meaning of pain I’m not bitter I swear, but I had a dream last night you murdered me in cold blood And my soul couldn’t descend to heaven or hell ‘cause there was a piece of it missing Lost in the infidelic battle that we fought in the dark Laying on the ground by my bed Whispering sweet lies and lullabies We were asked to protest a war While waging our own behind closed doors I felt like a sadist telling you to make war instead of love But at least the battle leaves me dignified with stories to tell Instead of broken inside with wounds that can’t heal So I stop the empty protest and trade them for apathy; asking you Will it be love or war this time? I’m like a child who is scared of both Wishing we could talk before our passions collide Like shooting stars in the sky And girl I think we’re too delicate to burn this brightly But we’re too passionate to fade to memories pictures won’t do justice to So I’m afraid we will burn ourselves into legends; ashes to ashes Till there’s nothing left but stories and dust And tales will be told of love soldiers like us |