Crucifixion as an Art Form

here, inside these arms we're always safe. but our skin got stretched so far,
we never realized it could break.
and somehow, we're still sleeping in the same bed. or lying awake at night waiting for the mourning sun to see if you gave up.

so, use your god, or use your tongue to tell me lies.
are you bleeding from your palms again? a martyr to yourself?
i'm gushing from there too, i love to be the victim for myself.

hold on, hold on to everything you have. hold on, hold on to anything, i'm begging you.
and somehow we're still living in the same space and lying awake at night
I'm dying to tell you, you gave up.