Chasing the sunset, while my hand rotates to the left 
carving canyons into my wrist 
Sometines the screaming silence creates the back-drop 
for the next blood stained, painful kiss 
Four-thirty after midnight. The hours passed by in silence 
these moments I ache for to pass, 
creeping in black air upon the white walls 
as purple sheets encase our restless forms. 
Dark red [bad word] deep, flooding mountain walls with this blood 
Black [bad word] up slowly as they cover me in whispers