Molten lava burning through fatigued hearts.
Hearts that have grown tired of breaking
And being sown back together,
With multicolored threads
Molten lava burning through fatigued bodies
Bodies tired of waking up next to different souls
Souls who hold them ever so tenderly at night
Only to walk out the door the next morning
Without even waiting for the sun rays,
to steal their way through the purple curtains.
Molten lava burning through fatigued lips.
Lips tired of being the gateway to words uttered
After one too many glasses of vino,
After one too many heartbreaks
Words that burn the lips
Fighting to be let loose.
Molten lava burning through fatigued spirits,
Spirits that carry so much baggage.
Baggage that cant be thrown out the window ‘
Of a moving car.
Baggage that defines the spirit
Yet somehow is the deadweight being.