Bitter Cynic of Color Red
infectous are these thoughts of your sticky lips
contagious is the taste of your sweaty fingertips
twirling like a tiny feather in this vertigo of heat
my hand on your chest - seeking of your heart beat
what has become of me - a bitter cynic of color red
once convinced love is no longer, but a soldier of lead
my mind is lost - my guards long forgotten, broken
in this feeling of warmth - undeniably i have sunken
in my nostrils - smell of your skin tingling
in my thoughts - your dark eyes shimmering
away from me goes reason when you touch my hand
torn shreds of my broken heart you perfectly seem to mend
kiss me kiss me kiss me for i want to quiver
touch me touch me touch me for i want to shiver
what has become of me - a bitter cynic of color red
once convinced love is no longer, but a soldier of lead
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