I was 17,
And you said
You didn't want to miss out
On the right one
While cutting your fingers
On my broken edges

And I was convinced
I was the reason
Everyone in my life
Was always bleeding

And I was sitting in the center
of my naked mattress
at four in the morning
on a Wednesday,
humming along to the tides
made up of ***** & cheap beer,
ebbing and flowing
inside my stomach

And I was gripping
my favorite blanket
like a safety bar,
Cause the floor felt like
it was going to crumble
beneath my bed

And I was embedding
my nails into my veins
to feel some warmth

I was 17,
And no one would ever write
about the softness of my eyes
Or the way my bottom lip quivers
just before I start to cry

I was 17,
And already unloveable