Does gold make it ring any louder? Just because rust won’t form, doesn’t make the heavy water you're surrounded by uncloudy.

What I want to say, as cliche as it may be: “my blood is my love and it runs through my heart as such, for you.”


While the sentiment and shade of the message remains, what I'll say in the light of day is… “hey.”
When I say what I said, meaning: that which I've said before, I'll want to recoil. I'll want you to slap my face, or worse, but I already know you won't throw. No, you'll hold your left hand behind with the right, tight, then walk unbalanced before you fold. If you took a swing to fling at me, you'd pull your punches—I know—I wouldn't receive an imprint, an indent; a glimpse or a whiff of your intent.

How I want to say it: soft kisses and long strings of affection to wrap around you like a frayed windcheater with lingering pieces of warmth which strums away the melody of coldness.


The way my music will be interpreted: eclectic mess, a medley of melodyless melodies with an intense strength, less sense.

Does gold make you ring louder when the weather is wettest? Just because rust won’t form doesn’t mean what’s worn can be worn.