Fangs

I can see the words inside your silence, but I can’t speak about your pain for you.
How long can you burn for anyways, turning over and back again with tongues ablaze like lions without teeth, hungry, staring at the forests of flames and our eyes just talking with the trees.
If we could drift long enough we’ll be home.
Sails blown by the fire within pushing me to you.
And you can live inside of me, sewn together.
Breaking, inhaling, growing and breaking again and again.
And you are a part of me.
You are my home and I’m your home but I’m no place you want to be.
So I’m out here again, sparks hid behind my teeth.
I won’t say a word for fear of failure spreading.
It takes some of us longer to get to our dead-ends now.
Oh blood-stained with loose living.
Ran through charcoal hearts to make it red.
And we can be on fire again, you and I, you want this.
Well say what you want, say what you mean.
Or we can talk, lung to closed ear.
Head inside a hand turning over again, together.
Cut up with cheap heat running through our veins.
And we can lay brick by broken brick, our ashes pushed in between.
And build this road back home to where we wanna be.
We are not on our own, we are the same. Let fangs give birth to fangs but I can’t walk away. But I can’t walk away. Let them breed.