Crimson

God knows everything is easier said than done,

but all I can do is say. 

God knows my ruling is coming undone, 

even though all I do is pray.

I know it is futile trying to get to you,

You know my muses get to me.

I know all about what is due, 

and how I will sow whatever you reap. 

I know our business contracts and laws, 

I know you inside and all over out, 

I know our debating and existential talks, 

You know I wouldn't know anybody else.

Crimson is the colour of the lipstick I had on. 

It truly changed the trajectory of things. 

You shot me a, 'Could we be something?' glance, 

and my mind went onto rings.

God is a concept I made up to keep you, 

because faith and prayers will make me of some use. 

I'm forever giving you pieces of me I know you'll lose, 

while I hang all yours on the ceiling of my bedroom. 

I know it is futile trying to get to you,

I know all my muses hate that they're mine, 

I know a lot about what is bad and good, 

but morality leaves why you come by. 

I know our business contracts and laws, 

I know you inside and all over out, 

I know our debating and existential talks, 

You know I wouldn't know anybody else.

Crimson is the colour of the lipstick I had on. 

It truly changed the trajectory of things. 

You shot me a, 'Could we be something?' glance, 

and my mind went onto rings.

Crimson is the colour of my blood when we fight, 

pouring out exactly like the tears from my eyes.

I'm bawling to your anger all alone at night, 

trembling because I never want you out of my sight.

Crimson is the colour of the furious sky, 

If I'm screaming 'Sunset!', you're screaming 'Sunrise!'. 

Tearing me like the string of a useless kite,

I don't understand why I love you with all my might. 

Crimson is the colour of my face when you smile at me, 

Cussing you out while I try to breathe calmly, 

Beat of my heart screwing with my normalcy, 

Time of my life but it's yours I'm winding. 

And you come up to me all bruised, 

Acting drunk on your special occasion booze.

Voice loud as ever like debates on the news,

making your way to my room. 

You say to me, 

"Stop cornering my carcass with the last that you bleed, 

Salvation is nothing without your mercy, 

Promise me this - you will never leave."

Roll my eyes, "God, Mr. Complicated, just say you love me."

Urging you to shout, "If loving you was sinful, 

Satan would be an angel 

and if breathing was the price to pay, 

I'll suffocate every day." 

Crimson is the colour of the lipstick I had on.

It truly changed the trajectory of things. 

You shot me a, 'Could we be something?' glance, 

and my mind went onto rings.