The lovers who lie, are the worms that pry

If only the words came pouring out of your mouth
as fast as the blood pouring down my arm
each droplet of red, shiny, falling fast.
they tell a story with each stain they create.
wish I knew what you meant by forever.
wish I knew what you meant by goodbye.
would you tell me if I held this gun to my head
whisper it in my ear as I lie here dead?
sing the truth to my coffin, sing to my corpse.
the words I need to hear, the lies that feed the worms.
which crawl in the dirt, under a grave they pry.
the words marked in stone it read “true love is a lie”