The Haunt of Us
In shadows where your love and fear combine,
Every inch of this room confesses what we dare not say–
Your heartbeat stutters, a pulse trembling in the dark’s design.
We dance in silence, afraid to cross the border line
That divides wanting from warning, skin from memory’s decay.
In shadows where your love and fear combine,
Desire and dread lace our bodies, both refuse to resign,
A whispered plea in the night, a trap we’re forced to play–
Your heartbeat stutters, a pulse trembling in the dark’s design.
We fuck beneath sheets grown heavy with the ghosts we consign,
Every thrust a question, every gasp a shadowed ballet.
In shadows where your love and fear combine,
You hold me close, yet distance is written in the curve of your spine,
Your touch leaves its signature–a bruise, a sigh, a stain that won’t fade away.
Your heartbeat stutters, a pulse trembling in the dark’s design.
The walls learn our confessions, eavesdrop as we intertwine,
Keeping secrets for us, recording every word we refuse to say.
In shadows where your love and fear combine,
Even kisses are haunted–fear laced through the wine,
The taste of goodbye in every drink, every tease, every ache we betray.
Your heartbeat stutters, a pulse trembling in the dark’s design.
We become our own ghosts, always circling, always drawing the same signs,
Afraid to love too loudly, afraid that the silence is what we’ll obey.
In shadows where your love and fear combine,
Your heartbeat stutters, a pulse trembling in the dark’s design.
We haunt each other, bound by dread,
Afraid to love, afraid to bleed.
A ghost that never leaves our bed,
In silence, both our hearts concede.
A wound we cannot cauterize,
We’re haunted every night–
By love that never truly dies,
By silence eating light.
We’re haunted by old laughter and the sharp scent of fear,
By the echoes of hands that tremble and words unspoken in your ear.
We lie in bed, backs turned, faces to the wall,
Pretending not to notice how the darkness grows tall.
Love is a haunting, an addiction, an ache,
A room filled with reminders and hearts that can’t break.
We haunt each other because neither can leave,
Afraid of what’s outside, of what we might achieve.
The haunt of us is memory–desire forever mixed with dread,
A love we dare not claim,
A ghost that will not be led.