The meter is running up,
Up like my heart beat before we crash.
Before we collide with
Much like how me and you weren't meant to be, but were.
Burn my feet on the heated rocks you threw.
Trying to evade your love raping me;
The smell of it, lingering on my scarred flesh.
Drenched in that God awful stench.
The pong of your love,
What was not our destiny,