Why do I look for love in broken hearts
and find comfort in empty words,
Why do I pour my soul into dirty hands
and weep when the bitter taste lingers on my lips,
I make my home in the bodies of gypsy lovers
and drown in the chaos of my own creation,
His touch burns my skin,
His whispers send chills down my spine,
Once again I find myself yearning for something,
that will never be mine.

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