Pushed of a Cliff.

You may be just a sinner,
looking for the perfect weaponry disposal.
Hiding all the sticks and stones
somewhere beneath my breaking bones.
You figure out how to dissect me
in a laboratory tray.
We weren't meant to ever bend
we weren't meant to ever break.
I watch you to see if you'll burry me alive
but you cannot when you fear that i may return the smile.
We both have the murder weapons feeding from our black hands
but our hearts and minds are pure and that is how we're meant.
silently i make a choice
silently i count the possibilities.
Silent so you can't here me.
It would kill us both to know.