Young to Die

Fumbling touch in the dark
Mapping out stars in beauty marks
Tracing the lines in my palm
Counting beats in the breaks of balm
Break the glass to write a note on
A rose red blade to press a throat on
Too tender for hell, too young to die
Don't wanna stay alive when you're twenty-nine
Fingertip caught in a link of chain
Bleeding out to ease your private pain
Seeking things that will hurt you
Sweet and soft just to desert you