This Isn't Why You Made Her

You can’t stay close enough to every boy you meet.
Drugs don’t taste good enough…
Since then you’ve been clean with every little taste
your nails broke more beneath the surface of my unsteady,
undying trust for your smile of decay:
beneath the unending, undying light of such little surprise…
I could swear I never saw it coming.
And with a moments pause he slipped right in…
when I was never there to begin with.
God, please take me home.
Here’s a pretty lie.
Here’s a big surprise.
Here’s a nasty taste.
Here’s a dying faith.
I can’t breathe and I swear I’ll never make this bed.
I can’t breathe and I swear we’re better off DEAD.
And I’m sick of redemption without revision.
And I’m sick of your eyes.
This isn’t why you made her…
This isn’t why you made her…