Baby my eyes
are weather beaten.
Kissing my lips is like a blow,
you’re kissing a life that I was cheated
leaving me strong and cracked and bold.
Baby I’m trying like a beggar,
got both of my hands to blot the flame
for you to take haven in the threads
I sew on the wounds that still remain.
Baby I don’t wear your scars
but when you lifted up my shirt if you could see
that I’d been harmed
if there were stains left from the hurt.
Would you reach out to protect me
from the demons that undressed me
took my hand and stained my breath
another taste of blood and flesh
If it were me baby,
would you hurt?
Baby those doors are closed and bolted
the hourglass fastened to the floor.
And nothing you built to break them open
could make it so I don’t hurt no more.
And maybe you polished a perspective
and painted new colors on your eyes.
But it’s a long journey they subjected
and I ain’t got money for a flight.
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