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His name.
And his lips had never tasted so damn well;
I felt sorrowful that he couldn't find his name in my lips.
I wish I could have fell in bliss with him instead of dealing with this mess in my head.
And sometimes I wish I did not lead you out the blasted door.
And sometimes, I wish that I did not fled from you; but, I have read my thoughts and silenced my heart, so yes, I know my mistakes dearest.
I financed oh so many of them.
But none of that has importance.
What does hold importance is the boy whom I am kissing.
The oe who is searching endlessly for his name on my lips, but can only find the tasted of your bitter name.
I swear I tried not to make such a mess,
but I lied when I said I was done with you.
And my emotions cried for you as I unwillingly shut them out. Oh poor kid.
I wonder what it is like unfeeling my lips, disappointed of not seeing him name.
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