bloody knuckles

shatter the glass
finger's bridges bleed
and you smile.
twisted and unresolved
lost and mad
jsut like you really are.
you cant write your feelings anymore
the blast created that.
hanging posters on your walls
surround yourself
in fantasy, without real men
maybe they can sing and write
poems, as beautiful as you wish yuo could be
or ever were.
and maybe the madness and delusions
are what broke the beauty spell.
maybe it was the bloody knuckels.
when you wiped away your eyes.
cuz you cry
just for him
and for you
begging god that
youll get lucky and he'll write you poems
as beautiful as you wish you were.
maybe youll get a miracle
and hell truly love you.
hell write your name in blood like you do.
does he share your thoughts?
cry over you at nights and in
secret stairways while you listen
to lonely love songs,
and weep, weep some more,
all over your bloody knuckles.
if only he was holding you now.
would he let you cry on him.
would he love you again?
only god can save you
from his tears
does he cry over you?
only god can save you from lies and heartache.
from bloody knuckles.
will god choose to save you?
will he save you?
will he hold you in his arms and
kiss away your cuts and scars
and bloody knuckles?
will your sorry tears shine on his shoulder
can you stop asking questions
and stop being needy
and stop whining
begging for company and tragidy?
all you need is a bandage
for your bloody knuckles.
and the glass really did shatter
you didnt think it would
and in the shining pieces
you saw him walk away
and the glass became your heart
shattering
into tiny shining, glittering,
unreplacable fragments
and you can fill and replace those wholes in my heart
and you can wipe away my tears, and
make me whole again
if you could hold me,
kiss me and console me
if you can kiss my cuts and scars
and then my bloody knuckles.