Your Touch Versus Death

eyes of celibates burning images worn down rotted lies lips dried peeling 
eyes separate our lives dead underneath your skin this blood's not mine you 
fucking whore you don't deserve my Gods you're a deified angel you leave me 
sickened in prayer it's the residing disease in me that sheds it's halos for 
whores it leaves my wrists cut with jaded tongues your eyes freeze my fire 
of innocence whores addictions souls salvation I said it I'm so tired so 
saddened I'm no coward please bury me they broke my wings in an attempt to 
divide a sickness from comfort of open wounds wide eyed I died