I just got used
To your presence
And you took off
You left me here
In spite of all of our crimes
In the bed we made
From our favourite rhymes
But there is no such blade
In existence
To cut through our threads
And I swear
I feel you
Pulling on my legs
Tickling my skin
And kissing my hands
I hear your voice
The poems
You are about to write
The little songs
You sing to me every night
You lurk me
Just to tear a page out of my book
Look
Old habits die hard
I remain your muse
Your wildcard
And you remain mine
Something
That nobody can deny
The eyes
They never lie
I don't want to float anymore
Let's fly
I will let you take me home
Look
At what you have done
You calmed the wrath of Rome
Your lines fired at me like a gun
The flying bullets...