Twisted

I remember laying there stunned, unable to breathe as my heart continued to slide against all belief, dripping dots straight through the bed and connecting them one by one, to unanswered questions unmistakable irrefutable and yet, I still wanted to think, somehow that maybe there was something left anything at all, besides this sinking realization inside the rhyme of never again would I be that fool as pictures don't lie. that was her in my car when I left it with you. what kind of love was this? what kind of joke bleeds red?