Intertwined thoughts with yours
   stitched up wounds are open once again
   appreciation of my silence
   will be held no more
   so close to your desires
   but I will not encourage my blood
   to be spilled for indignity
   and I would cry but it would kill all that I know
   still utter deceit enters my flesh
   and I contemplate the end as I grasp for breath
   bearing bloody memories while kneeling
   down letting my insides pour out
   and my enraged memories won?t let me open
   these wounds anymore