Off the Cliff

I'm hanging off a cliff by bloodied fingertips
And I can feel myself losing my grip,
I'm clawing at the edge to keep myself
From falling to my death in this abyss.
There's an echo of a scream or a moan
Floating through my head, all alone
And I'm struggling as if swimming in foam
To keep my grip at the edge of this world.
I can feel the strain in the tips of my fingers
As they dig into the edge of this shrine,
My nails are coated in the rose soaked shine
And the scent of your body still lingers.
There's the taste of your tongue on my mouth,
And I still feel the ghost of your touch,
Your fingers left marks as they dug through my thoughts
And I left mouth-shaped wounds on your skin.
I'm holding on with both hands to the edge,
And I'm suspended from your blood colored lips,
One word from your mouth and I'll let myself down,
I will throw all my cards in the game.
I'll swan dive off the curve of your sweet Cupid's bow
And I'll land oh so soft in your arms,
I am small and afraid of the word you will say
To relinquish your lips from my grasp.