Pale

I'll tuck the soil around your unborn heads.
What the fuck was I thinking of
I'm sorry for the things I said.
I'll tip my glass to misery,
And pour it on your graves.
I can't believe I wasn't there for you.
I fall asleep with a gun in my mouth,
Because of all the things I did.
And I can't be at peace with myself

Unless you know I cared.

My hand against your cheek,
So in the dark I could feel you smile