The Angels Are Crying

Every feeling crossed out
Lashed against your skin.

Marked, red and bruised.
My ghosts you've tried to see through.

But I've hidden under covers,
Where no oxygen is left to breathe.
Tripping through a tunnel,
Damp and out of ease.

I'm sorry if you're sorry,
But I don't need a reason to cry.
I'm sorry if you love me,
And answers are impossible for you to give away...

"Be with me," is all I begged,
Your silence in response drained my blood.