its been two years  and i still cant hear your name, or see a mini cooper or listen to blond by frank ocean without feeling my chest implode
but now, maybe i can start to rebuild the house in my chest, with all the fragile pieces of the worn out frame of my body,
maybe now i can listen to pink and white and nights and seigfried without hearing your voice collide with mine as we sang along
one tap at a time
i will learn to live without you on my mind