My safety net is altered
with will that struck his chord.
I became so unraveled;
he became far too torn.
The privilege of him feeling
broke when my blood hit the floor.

This is what became of the fallen:
writhing on the floor
drunk as the poor bastard
whose sleeping out by shore,
regretting what he mastered
the drug-induced galore.

I see your tired body
turning over in your bed.
What happened to your beauty ?
Where did it go when it all shed ?
Now your wounds are found all over,
malnourished and unfed.

I still hear his whispers,
expressing his disdain.
And I can't help but to miss
the memories that now feign.