CaughtBetween

...

I can't regret it, but I could end this.
Broken silver spoon, somewhere dirtied in my youth.
Lost in transcript.

I can't forget it. Skin is precious.
So is blood to live and when loved.
It should not be beaten.

When the fluid slips through,
I become cold and numb;
and so I ask you,
"What is love?"

Crimson, porcelain night.
It should be easy to fall asleep tonight... ...