Mourning Cursive - Teeth On The Inside

There’s blood on your lip again, and you laugh like it’s perfume. I taste the sharp edge of every word you didn’t say, and I’m addicted to the silence between your heartbeat and your breath. Your hair’s a mess, your hands are shaking, and I think it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you. I want to take the skin off my chest and let you crawl inside, just so you can hear how loud you make me. You press your knee into my thigh and say, “Tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done.” I tell you I’ll show you instead. We drink straight from the bottle, your mouth on the glass, mine on yours. I feel my teeth on the inside, grinding down every excuse to stay away from you. And you smile like a slow confession, pulling me apart one button at a time. You say, “If we burn for this, let’s burn completely.” And I believe you — because I can already smell the smoke. Your laughter is bruised and dangerous, your eyes are a dare I can’t refuse. Every kiss tastes like it might split me open, and I’m begging for it, digging my nails into the part of you that keeps your chaos still. If we collapse here, skin on skin, breath on breath, I’ll call it living. I’ll call it proof. I feel my teeth on the inside, grinding down every excuse to stay away from you. So, darling, put your teeth on my neck and bite the answer out of me.