Every pore in my skin remembers your name and,
Every bathroom stall I ever visited,
Bears an inscription of us.
There is an iron wall here,
And no matter the miles you run,
And no matter how high I climb,
We still surrender to it.
It engulfs us as it divides us.
I have a secret weapon.
There is a fire in my heart,
And it can erupt like Mt. Vesuvius did.
This wall then, amounts to naught
As my affection sets ablaze.
I sit in a dimly lit world,
Reflecting on the sunshine
That surrounds you.
A faint ember sparks and fans,
The abyss that I fall into.
As the memory of you bounces,
From the left chamber to the right,
A warmth, warmer than blood,
Fills my dreary veins
And it’s when this heart becomes,
Your secret weapon too.